A Year Too Soon
by NHunter
Summary: Somehow, young Harry Potter got enrolled into Hogwarts a whole year earlier than expected. And this small alteration changes the fate of the whole Wizarding world... ••• AU story and, eventually, M-rated ••• Minor bashing of various characters is possible.
1. A Letter That Changed Everything

**Title** : A Year Too Soon  
 **Author** : NHunter  
 **Genre** : General, Adventure, attempt at Romance later on  
 **Rating** : eventually M  
 **Warnings** : AU; Possible violence, strong language and other adult stuff; Crazy author...

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text_

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon  
Chapter I: A Letter That Changed Everything**

The day started much like any other for Harry Potter. He was woken up pretty early in the morning by aunt Petunia and told to his usual chores. Which, among other things, included checking the mailbox and disposing any unwanted commercials... That was when the things started getting strange. Among an assortment of other letters, there was a thick envelop made from some material Harry didn't readily recognize. And, if what was written on this envelop was to be believed, the letter was addressed to him. That was really odd: no one would ever write a letter to a freak like him!

Things only got even more strange when his aunt saw the letter. She became paler than a ghost. Then she practically tore the envelop out of his hands and ordered him back into his room, the cupboard under the stairs. She even threatened him with the most severe punishment she could think up on the spot to make sure he remained in there until she allowed him out... Whatever that letter was, it most definitely was something really abnormal. Alas, to Harry it looked like he would never learn what was so special about that letter.

Meanwhile, the patriarch of the Dursley family – the very epitome of normality as he himself would like to think – waddled down the stairs and found his wife staring in shock at some odd letter.

"What's wrong, Pet?" He asked, not knowing why that thing had such an effect on his lovely wife. His question seemed to break the woman out of her thoughts.

"Not here." Petunia said, before motioning her husband to follow her into the guestroom – a place where their freakish nephew wouldn't be able to overhear them. One there, she tried to explain. "Vernon... They... The freaks promised us that... that we would not hear a word from them until the boy turns eleven... And yet..." She then handed the envelop over to her husband, thus finally allowing him to see that it came from 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry'.

"Maybe the freaks made a mistake?" The walrus-like man asked as he inspected the letter in vain hope that it was merely some sick joke. Unfortunately, the damn thing seemed to be quite real and authentic. "Maybe if we don't reply, they will leave us alone for another year?"

"No." Petunia cut him. "If I know one thing about the freaks, it's that they are persistent. If we simply ignore this letter, they will send more. Maybe even more than one at a time too. And the people might notice this. Do you really want the rumors about us receiving packs of strange letters start circulating around the neighborhood?" Vernon had to agree with that: the normality of his life was already endangered by the presence of the freak in his house, no need to endanger it even more.

"Than we shall write them we're not interested and tell those freaks to never bother us again!" He boomed. Petunia thought about it for a few long seconds, before giving her answer:

"I actually think we should accept the offer and send the freak to that freakish school." This surprised her husband greatly.

"Why would we do something like that? Didn't we agree to do our best to stomp the freakishness out of the boy?" Vernon asked, still very tempted to tear the accursed letter into tiny bits. And then do the same to whichever freak wrote it.

"And it obviously didn't work." The woman pointed out. Indeed, despite the Dursleys' best attempts, they weren't able to do anything about their nephew's bouts of accidental magic. "But think about it, he'll be considered an adults by the freaks either when he turns seventeen or when he finishes his schooling. By sending him to that freakish school now we will have him out of our house almost a whole year early!" Now that was a good point, Vernon thought.

"But what about?.." Knowing her husband as good as she did, Petunia could predict his question.

"The headmaster of that freak school had assured me in his letter that we won't have to pay a single penny for the boy's education there. I think, he even said that we won't have to spend anything on his school supplies..." She drifted away for a second. "The boy will have to buy his things on his own, though. I'm never going back to _that_ unnatural place ever again."

"Is that really a good idea, Pet? To let him wander around on his own for long, I mean." The Dursley patriarch asked then. "What if he gets lost and starts to ask for direction? People will get curious why a freak like him is on his own. And they then can trace it back to us. Imagine what rumors people will start spreading if they learn we send the boy to shop for school without supervision." Now it was Petunia's turn to nod in agreement.

"I'm still not going back to that place." She insisted. "Perhaps, we can ask one of the freaks that run the school to come and take the boy there? One of them did that for my... sister back when she got accepted. I don't think my mother and father had to pay for that either."

"That could work." Vernon said. Then he made a pause as he studied the envelop. "But how are we going to tell the freaks that we accept their offer? There is no proper return address here."

' _Oh damn it!_ ' Petunia thought. Freaks used owls to deliver their mail, and the normal people didn't have any owls as pets or whatever. How was she supposed to send the response letter?

 **~/ *** \~**

Minerva McGonnagal was a stern, no-nonsense witch that held several important positions within the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She was the Transfiguration professor and the head of one of the school's faculties; she was also the deputy headmistress. And thanks to all those jobs she had quite a lot of things to do both during the school year and during the holidays.

Right now, at the end of July, she was bringing the list of the students that were accepted into Hogwarts and will start their education there come September the first to the headmaster of this fine establishment for his approval. This list was actually generated every year by magic and, since the system had worked perfectly for decades if not centuries, no one really paid much attention to the names that appeared on this list. Well, not at this point, at least.

"Have we received answers to all of the invitation letters sent?" Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore – the man with more titles than he could remember himself – asked as he signed the list without bothering to read the names on it. The deputy headmistress gave him a nod in response. "Then, starting tomorrow, have the staff begin introducing muggleborn and muggle-raised to the magical world, Minerva." Dumbledore said.

"Of course, Albus." Professor McGonnagal replied, before taking the signed parchment from the headmaster's table and leaving his office: even during the summer months the man was very busy and she didn't want to take more of his valuable time than was absolutely necessary...

* * *

Seeing as this year there were no children coming from the muggle orphanages – those could only be handled either by the deputy headmistress or by the headmaster – professor McGonnagal simply made her colleagues draw the names of the children they will be introducing to the magical world from her hat. And since she too didn't suspect that the system had added an unexpected name to the list, she just cut the parchment into pieces without even bothering to read the names that were there.

Professor Filius Flitwick, a short man who had a goblin as one of his closer ancestors, squeaked and almost fell out of his chair when he read the names he drew from the hat. But since it was a common knowledge that he was easily excitable, no one really paid any attention to that. And Filius was secretly glad for that: it meant that he will have better chances of directing one Harry Potter, the son of Lily Potter nee Evans, to become one of this 'Claws. Of course, the Charms professor knew that Harry wasn't supposed to become a Hogwarts' student for another year, but stranger things happened in the magical world, so he decided not to think too much about this.

 **~/ *** \~**

"Alright, boy, listen here and listen well." Uncle Vernon said as he walked the floor in front of Harry. "We were recently given an offer we couldn't possibly refuse. So, starting this autumn, you will be attending a special school for freaks just like you. It's a boarding school... ah... somewhere." Making a pause to take a breath, the walrus-like man continued: "And you _will_ be staying there throughout the whole school year; I don't want to deal with your freakishness in my house any more than absolutely necessary. With me so far, boy?"

"Y-yes, uncle Vernon." Harry stammered automatically, his brain still trying to process what the man before him had just said.

"Next Tuesday, a ...professor from your new school will come to our house and take you... ah... to a freakish district so that you get whatever unnatural stuff you will need in your freakish school. And make sure you are on your best behavior, boy, or so help me if they refuse to accept you because of your rudeness! Got it?"

"Yes, uncle Vernon." The young Potter replied, still having no true idea of what was going on.

"Good." Vernon continued. "Also, we, in our infinite generosity, decided that it is about the time you move out of your cupboard. From now on you will be living in the attic. Cleaning it up and moving your things there is your job, boy. So, go get started before I change my mind and have you live under the stairs for the rest of your miserable freakish life."

"T-Thank you." Harry said, not yet believing what he had just heard... There was a long pause, which was broken by uncle Vernon:

"What are you waiting for, boy? Your new room will not clean itself!" Letting out an unintelligible sound, the green-eyed Potter bolted out of the kitchen and upstairs, intent on making the attic into a proper room – his room – as soon as possible.

 **~/ *** \~**

Even now, several days after his talk with his relatives, Harry still could hardly believe that he wasn't just a freak. Magic was real and he was someone who could use it, a wizard. What's more, there actually was an entire school that taught magic to people like him! And he was going to attend it come September the first!

The young Potter still had troubles believing all this even as he sat impatiently in the kitchen, waiting for someone from that school to arrive – according to uncle Vernon, this person then would take him to a magical shopping district hidden somewhere in London so that he can get whatever weird stuff he will need for his magical classes.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doorbell rang. And being an eager ten years old, Harry immediately bolted to the door. He didn't open it right away, though. First, he tried his best to quickly preen his new clothes: the Dursleys had given those to him so that he would look really presentable and the wizards – or, the freaks, as his relatives usually called them – would have one less reason to stick their noses into their lives... That done, the green-eyed boy finally opened the door and... At first he thought that there was no one there, but a few moments later the young Potter finally noticed the professor that was supposed to guide to the magical shopping district.

The said professor was diminutive man, probably not even three feet tall, and even outside of his short statue there was something about him that wasn't quite human... He was wearing a rather normal, if horribly outdated, dress coat. Which, Harry supposed, was a good thing: he could imagine his aunt having a heart attack had the man showed up in some garish robes or whatever outlandish clothes the wizards were depicted in in the fairy tales.

"Would you happen to be Mr. Harry Potter, young man?" The diminutive wizard asked in a somewhat squeaky voice as he looked up to meet Harry's eyes.

"Y-yes, sir." The younger magical replied after a moment or two of silence.

"Good." The man said. "I'm Filius Flitwick, and I teach Charms at Hogwarts." He introduced himself.

"Charms, sir?" Harry asked curiously: the letter telling him that he was accepted into Hogwarts didn't have a list of classes he will be taught there. Likewise, while the list of course books he needed to buy had several books about spells, none of those book had the word 'charms' anywhere in their titles.

"I take it, your guardians haven't explained you much about the magic?" Professor Flitwick asked after a few moments of silence. Harry shook his head.

"They did explain me that I was a wizard and that all the strange stuff that sometimes happened around me was magic, but they refused to tell me anything beyond that." He said.

"I see..." The older wizard replied. "Don't worry, Mr. Potter, I'll do my best to answer the many questions you undoubtedly have." The professor promised. "But, perhaps, this isn't the conversation we should have while standing in the doorway." The green-eyed boy couldn't help but nod in agreement. "Than, why don't we start our journey to the Diagon Alley? - That's the magical shopping district in London and the place where we'll buy your school supplies."

"Ah, sir..." Harry breathed out.

"What is it, Mr. Potter?" Professor Flitwick asked, unsure of what was troubling his young charge.

"How will I be able to pay for those things, sir?" Harry asked: his relatives had made it clear that they weren't spending a single penny on his 'freakish stuff'. He vaguely remembered his aunt implying that he might had some magical money, though.

"You don't need to worry about that, Mr. Potter." The Hogwarts' Charms professor said. "Your parents had without a shadow of doubt made sure that you'll be well-provided in case something unfortunate happened to them." Harry nodded, happy to be told that his late parents cared about him.

"In that case, I'm ready to go, sir." He said, stepping out of the house and closing the door behind himself.

"Alright then, Mr. Potter. There is a lot we need to accomplish today." Professor Flitwick said jovially. And so the two of them began walking away from #4, Privet drive. Which kind of confused Harry: shouldn't wizards be traveling via flying carpets or something? His guide noticed this: "We won't be walking for long, Mr. Potter. Once we reach a less public area, I'll summon us a ride to London." Harry nodded. It actually made sense that the Charms master wasn't going to use his magic in the middle of a street: everyone would have known that Magic was real if wizards and witches cast their spells whenever and wherever they felt like. "Also." Professor Flitwick continued. "I'm sure you have questions that you'd like me to answer. In fact, I remember you asking about Charms back there, but, perhaps, there are some other questions that you would like to get answered first?" Harry nodded.

"You said that my parents left me some money. Did you know them, sir?" The older wizard nodded. "Can you tell me more about them?" The young Potter asked.

"But of course!" The diminutive man replied. And, after a moment of silence, he began his tale...

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That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	2. Diagon Alley

And here comes the second chapter!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **ExecutionerKain** , **Tommy14** , **Volksbrot** , **davycrockett100** , **Horselvr4evr123** , **ALiveTodaytoWrite** , **lordamnesia** , **Guest** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **Penny is wise** , nice to hear from you. And thank you for finding the story enjoyable so far.  
 **The Richmaster** , Harry is going to have a different circle of friends here, that's for sure.  
 **VizeerLord** , no, the goblins won't be taking care of Harry, but they certainly will be doing more business with him that they did in canon.  
 **deadal** , yes, this story is indeed a third rendition of the one-shots you mention. But I'll certainly do my best to expand and improve upon what I had written for this idea before.

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 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text_

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon  
Chapter I** **I: Diagon Alley**

The 'Knight Bus' was the absolutely worst way to travel, Harry decided. The damn purple triple-decker was loud as hell; the passenger seats weren't bolted to the floor and jerked around violently whenever this deathtrap on wheels accelerated or made a sharp turn; and one could only wonder where the driver got his license from. If he even had one at all that is. Magic making things jump out of the bus's way was the only reason it didn't suffer serious accidents every other minute. That said, according to professor Flitwick, the 'Knight Bus' was the only method of discreet transportation that was reliably available to underage or infirm wizards.

Of course, the 'Knight Bus' itself wasn't the only topic the diminutive professor had enlightened Harry on during their ride. He also fulfilled his earlier promise and told the young Potter about his family. Thus, by the time they arrived to Charing Cross Road in London, Harry finally had some idea what his parents truly were like. He was really happy to learn that they weren't unemployed drunkards like his aunt had been claiming for years, but he was also greatly surprised by the fact that the Potters, in fact, were a long and distinguished magical bloodline. And since Harry was the last living member of a Noble house, he will become Lord Potter when he got old enough.

Professor Flitwick also told Harry what he knew about the events of that fateful Halloween night nine year ago. And while Harry already suspected that his aunt had being lying to him and it wasn't a car crash that took his parent from him, learning that they had been murdered by a very powerful and very evil wizard was... well... shocking. What's more, the aforementioned dark lord then tried to kill him as well, but inexplicably failed and got vanquished instead. Because of that, the young Potter was widely known as the 'Boy-Who-Lived' and was a celebrity of sorts in the wizarding world.

Harry immediately decided that he hated that moniker. He also didn't want the people to stare at him like he was some exotic animal in a zoo. He hated being in the center of everyone's attention. And once he made that known, professor Flitwick agreed to help him a little: with a quick flick of his wand the diminutive wizard placed a glamour charm on the young Potter, making his appearance change subtly yet enough to make him much harder to recognize.

Harry was still staring in wonder at his reflection in the window, when the 'Knight Bus' finally made a stop at Charing Cross Road and professor Flitwick ushered him outside. Once there, the older wizard pointed at a tiny, grubby-looking pub.

"This is the 'Leaky Cauldron', Mr. Potter." The Hogwarts' Charms Master lectured as they entered the establishment. "This pub has been the gateway between the muggle and magical worlds since the beginning of fifteenth century. It's also a nice place to have a good meal, and you can rent a room in there." The green-eyed boy made a note of that: one day he might need a reprieve from the Dursleys, and this pub looked like a great sanctuary. Deep in his thoughts, Harry only noticed that they've reached a small walled courtyard, with nothing but a trash can and a few weeds in it. "This is where an entrance into the Diagon Alley is located, Mr. Potter." professor Flitwick said. "Once you have your wand, you will simply need to tap this brick with it three times, and..." He did that, and suddenly the bricks of the wall rearranged themselves into a wide arch.

"Whoa!" The young Potter breathed out in amazement as he took in the sight of a cobbled street where seemingly every house was a colorful magical shop. Entire crowds of wizards and witches of all ages were moving between the stores, looking for the best deal on whatever goods they needed.

"Welcome to the Diagon Alley, Mr. Potter." The Hogwarts' Charms Master drew Harry's attention back to himself. "We will be visiting a few of this shops later on, but our first stop is the Gringotts back." He said, while pointing at a white-marble building that towered over the other little shops. "Gringotts is run by goblins and is reputed to be one of the most secure places in Great Britain if not entire Europe." Still overwhelmed by the new experiences, Harry simply allowed the diminutive professor to lead him into the bank while trying to take in as much of the Diagon Alley as his two eyes would let him to.

* * *

Once inside the Gringotts back, professor Flitwick approached the nearest unoccupied goblin teller and exchanged several phrases with him, in a rough language that Harry couldn't understand. Eventually, the two finished speaking, and the teller turned his attention to the green-eyed wizard.

"Mr. Potter, in order to prevent thievery, we need to confirm your identity. Once it has been verified that you are indeed who you claim to be, all existing keys to your trust vault will be invalidated, and a new one will be forged." Harry nodded, somewhat absentmindedly, as he was still overwhelmed by what he was seeing around himself. "Do write your full name with the quill provided." The goblin said, while giving him a piece of parchment with the bank's seal, and a strange reddish-black quill.

"This is a blood quill, Mr. Potter." Professor Flitwick said. "It writes in a person's very blood and is generally used for signing legal documents. This particular quill is enchanted to greatly reduce the effects it has on the writer. Even with those enchantments in place, however, writing with this quill will be rather uncomfortable, so I recommend you brace yourself." Nodding, Harry took the offered quill and started writing his name on a parchment, wincing from an unpleasant sensation of something invisible trying to scratch something onto the back on his hand. But he needed to do this to access _his_ money, so he braved the discomfort...

Once he was done, the goblin teller collected both the piece of parchment and the quill and began examining Harry's signature. Apparently satisfied with what he could see, the goblin then used his magic to destroy the parchment. Then, he pressed one of the many runes inscribed on his counter and barked some orders in the goblin language.

"It appears that you are indeed Mr. Potter." The teller said, once again speaking in plain English. "The creation of a new key to your trust vault has been authorized. The key should be forged and delivered to you within thirty minutes." The young wizard nodded, while trying his best to sooth his poor hand. "Do you have any other business with Gringotts today?"

"Um..." Harry began awkwardly. "You said that you will create a new key to my trust vault. Does that mean that I – well,.. house Potter – has other vaults?" He asked then.

"House Potter currently has three vaults within our bank." The teller replied. "If you wish to learn more about those, I suggest you speak to your account manager. Anything else?" This time, it was professor Flitwick, who spoke up.

"Who is the current account manager in charge of Potter assets, and is he or she available at this moment?" He asked, this time speaking in English instead of the goblin language, presumably for Harry's benefit. The teller was silent for a few moments as he, apparently, checked whether the Potters' account manager was available right now.

"Account manager Silverclaw is available and agrees to see you now." The teller said finally. "Assistant Griphook will escort you there." One of the smaller goblins appeared seemingly out of nowhere next to the teller's counter.

"Please follow me, Mr. Potter." He said, making Harry look at the Hogwarts' Charms Master.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but I'm not allowed to accompany you." Professor Flitwick said. After a moment of silence, he continued with an advice: "If you are going to sign any documents, make sure that you completely understand what exactly is written in them. As you are the last of your bloodline, even if you aren't of age yet, the decision you make can and will affect your family's finances."

"O-Okay." Harry said as Griphook began guiding him towards one of the many doors leading out of bank's main hall...

* * *

Thankfully for Harry, account manager Silverclaw didn't ask his to sign anything and only provided him with the information about the state of the Potter assets. And, just like the teller in the main hall said, the house Potter currently had three vaults. One of those, of course, was Harry's trust vault. It was also the only vault the young wizard could access at the moment. The other two vaults contained monies and valuable items of house Potter respectively. Harry would gain limited access to those vaults upon becoming a heir to the house Potter, which could happen no sooner than on his thirteenth birthday. And to gain full and unrestricted access, he will have to wait until the age of majority.

Account manager Silverclaw also informed him about the properties owned by the Potters: a small manor in south-eastern Wales and a cottage in the village of Godric's Hollow. Alas, the former was little more than a foundation after a major fire in 1983, and the latter... Well, after that fateful Halloween night nine years ago, the Ministry for Magic decided to turn it into a monument, thus making it completely impossible for the young Potter to restore or rebuild it. In retrospect, he should have inquired, whether something like that was even legal, but back then he simply was too overwhelmed by everything to wonder about that.

Finally, account manager Silverclaw offered Harry the information about the shares in magical businesses that were owned by the house Potter. However, seeing as he could in no way affect those until he became a heir to the house Potter, the young wizards politely declined the offer. At that point, one of the assistant goblins brought a newly-forged key to the trust vault, and Harry excused himself from his account managers office to go and collect the gold he will need today for his school shopping.

* * *

As Harry finally emerged from the bowels of Gringotts, he found professor Flitwick waiting patiently for him in the bank's atrium.

"I take it, your business with Gringotts if concluded for today, Mr. Potter?" The Charms Master asked. Upon the green-eyed boy's nod, he continued: "In that case, let us start shopping for your school supplies. I suggest, we visit Redwood & Tanners' first; they sell various bags and trunks." That sounded like a very reasonable idea, so Harry nodded in agreement. "I would also recommend you to spend some extra gold on having the trunk of your choosing upgraded with additional security and protection enchantments. Adding a permanent featherlight charm to you trunk would also be a good idea." Once again, the that sounded like a very good suggestion, and the young Potter was intent to follow it.

In the end, Harry ended up buying a pretty large trunk with three compartments. It was not a basic model, so it came with a few enchantments already in place, but, following professor Flitwick's advice, he had several more of the useful enchantments layered onto it. Of course, that wasn't exactly cheap, but the green-eyed boy was sure that those were money well spent.

With a trunk acquired, it was the time for Harry to start hunting the other things he needed to buy for Hogwarts. Following yet another of his guide's suggestions, the next shop he visited was Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. And in addition to his uniforms, the young Potter also bought a couple of causal outfits of the kind that wouldn't stick like a sore thumb in a non-magical world.

Next, Harry stopped at Flourish and Blotts to acquire the textbooks he will need for his classes. After some thinking, he decided to buy some books the explained magical law and customs as well: something was telling him that he might find himself in the need of that knowledge before long. And professor Flitwick appeared to be silently approving of his thoughtfulness and thirst for knowledge.

After that, the shopping became something of a blur to the young Potter – he barely remembered visiting an apothecary to get the potion ingredients and vials, or Potage's Cauldron Shop to get, well, a cauldron – and before he knew it, he had everything he'll need at Hogwarts, except for a wand. And was there any better place to get one than Ollivanders'? The Hogwarts' Charms Master didn't think so, and Harry decided to once again trust his judgment.

* * *

"Good afternoon." A soft voice said almost as soon Harry and professor Flitwick entered into the store. A few moments later, Mr. Ollivander revealed himself as he stepped out of the storage area at the back of his shop. "Filius Flitwick, aspen and unicorn tail hair, eight and a half inches, swishy. I hope, it serves you well." The aged wandmaker inquired.

"It does." The diminutive wizard confirmed. Nodding, the shop owner turned his attention to Harry:

"Mr. Potter? I must say, this is a surprise. I wasn't expecting you for another year." The green-eyed boy found himself unsure of how he should respond to this since he had no idea why he got enrolled into Hogwarts a year earlier than was normal. Thankfully for him, Mr. Ollivander decided that he wasn't really interested in an answer to that question. "Shall we find you your wand, Mr. Potter?" Upon Harry's nod, he asked his next question: "Which is your wand arm?"

"Uh... Well... I'm right-handed, sir." The young Potter replied.

"Hold out your arm." He requested while pulling a measure tape out of his robe's pocket. "It seems only yesterday your mother was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work." The wandmaker reminisced as he measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then from wrist to elbow, from shoulder to floor, from knee to armpit and, finally, round his head. "Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it – it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

"It does?" The green-eyed boy asked, a little confused. After all, he couldn't really believe that a piece of wood with something inside possessed a will of its own and could 'choose' its wielder.

"Indeed, Mr. Potter." Mr. Ollivander replied. "Wands made from different woods and different cores will prefer wielders with different temperaments and different strengths." Pausing for a moment, the aged wandmaker continued: "Now, let's see what wand will choose you as its owner, Mr. Potter..." He walked behind the counter and took down several boxes from the shelves. "Why don't you try this one, Mr. Potter: beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible." He said, while handing one of those wands to Harry. But before the young wizards could even wonder, how he was supposed to know, whether this wand was a good mach for him, Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand. "No, no, this won't work." The shop owner commented as he gave him another wand to try. "Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy."

That wand didn't work for Harry either. As didn't the next two dozens or so. But the challenge seemed to only inspire Mr. Ollivander: the man seemed to be getting happier and happier as the pile of the tried wands grew.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, there's the perfect match for you somewhere..." He said as he picked yet another wands from the shelves. "How about this one? Fir and dragon heartstring, ten and a quarter inches, reasonably springy." As Harry took this wand, he finally understood what the old wandmaker might have been looking for: the wand seemed to inexplicably resonate with him. And when he tried swishing it, a stream of golden sparks shot from its end. "Yes, it seems like we've found your match, Mr. Potter." Mr. Ollivander stated straightforwardly. "This wand would be seven galleons."

"O-okay." Harry said as he laid the wand onto the counter and pulled his money bag out of his pocket.

"I would also recommend you get a wand-care kit, Mr. Potter. After all, a wand that is kept in a good shape will serve you well and faithfully. Ignore it, however, and you might find it acting up at the worst possible time." Deciding that this was a sound advice, Harry agreed to buy the kit as well.

* * *

"Seems like you've got everything you'll need, Mr. Potter." Professor Flitwick said, once the two of them stepped out of Ollivander's shop. "I believe, it's time I take you back home." That made Harry pause. While his home life had improved quite a bit after his aunt and uncle decided that he will be attending to Hogwarts, he still wasn't exactly eager to return to #4, Privet drive.

"Sir-?.." The green-eyed boy spoke up. "You said that I can rent a room at the 'Leaky Cauldron', right? Perhaps, you could just leave me there?" He asked then hopefully. The Hogwarts' Charms Master, though, seemed to be in a disagreement with this idea.

"That isn't something I can do, Mr. Potter. I'm obliged to bring you back to your home after you finished shopping, and I will do so." He said surprisingly firmly. "But I have no control over you afterwards, so, if you really want to taste freedom, you can always escape your relatives' care after I leave." He then added rather mischievously.

"O-okay... Thank you, sir." Harry said after an uncomfortable pause.

"Now, let us be on our way back to you home, Mr. Potter." Professor Flitwick replied as the two of them headed towards the exit from the Diagon Alley.

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	3. To Hogwarts!

And here comes the third chapter!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **C. Wade** , **davycrockett100** , **ALiveTodaytoWrite** , **Tommy14** , **lordamnesia** , **Rcjmat** , **macabre-wolf** , **Shalifi** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **The Richmaster** , **Wyrtha** , **abishop47** , truth to be said, I simply don't like the brother wand thing that the fourth book introduced. But since I don't want to axe that part of canon entirely and can't guarantee that Harry won't end in a fight against Voldemort at some point, I decided to simply give Harry a different wand.  
 **Kingdark** , **The Dark Dragen** , thank you. Fixed the typos.  
 **magitech** , no flashback, but Flitwick does explain how to get to platform 9 3/4 properly offscreen.  
 **Leafy Green** , thank you, though I'll have to politely disagree: there are writers way better than me out there.

 *** AN**: Great thanks to my friend **Lupine Horror** for his help in polishing this chapter.

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text_

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon  
Chapter I** **II: To Hogwarts!  
**

While professor Flitwick did say that Harry was free to leave his relatives' house, the diminutive man recommended him to stay there for the time being. And the young Potter eventually agreed that right now he didn't know enough about the magical world and its ways to do well there on his own. Plus, he supposed that staying at #4, Privet drive might not be all that bad after all. Indeed, ever since they had revealed the existence of Magic to him, his aunt and uncle mostly left him alone as long as everything 'unnatural' was kept out of their sight. Of course, they still gave him some chores to do, but those weren't all that hard and Harry didn't mind them too much.

Thus, he ended up staying at the Dursleys' residence for the rest of the summer. Mostly in his new room, either reading one of the books he had bought during his trip to the Diagon Alley, or simply lazing... Before long, however, the summer came to an end.

"Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked cautiously as he approached the Dursley patriarch on the last Thursday of August. The man let out an unintelligible grunt indicating that he was at least willing to hear the 'freak' of his nephew out. "I know, this is a lot to ask for, but... Could you, perhaps, give me a lift to Kings Cross on September the first?" The green-eyed wizard asked hopefully.

"When do you need to be there, boy?" Vernon asked back, obviously not very happy with this request. Still, seeing as he had to drive to London on that day anyway – he was representing Grunnings at an industrial exhibition held during the first days of September – he decided that he wouldn't mind driving the brat to Kings Cross all that much. Provided it didn't screw his schedule for the day, of course.

"My train leaves at eleven o'clock." Harry replied honestly. While also omitting the fact that the said train, the Hogwarts Express, was supposed to depart from a hidden platform that only wizards and witches could access...

"I need to be at ExCeL at ten. If you want me to give you a lift to Kings Cross, then you better be ready to wait an extra hour for your freakish train." The Dursley patriarch said. And Harry couldn't help but wince upon hearing that: that didn't sound like fun at all. Yet, his only other option was the 'Knight Bus', and he wasn't riding that deathtrap if he had a choice.

"Alright." The young Potter said finally.

"Make you have everything packed, boy." Vernon admonished. "If you forget something, then you can say it goodbye till next summer."

"Of course." Harry replied. "And thank you, uncle Vernon." He then added a few moments later.

 **~/ *** \~**

"Well, here we are, boy." The Dursley patriarch said as he parked his car in front of the Kings Cross. "Now stop wasting my time and get off; if I'm late to my presentation because of you, I'll..." He trailed off, unable to come up with a good enough threat. Of course, he had more than enough time to reach ExCeL, but Harry wisely decided against pointing that out. Instead, the green-eyed boy thanked his uncle for giving him a lift and disembarked from the car. "And don't come back till next summer, or I'll make you regret you were born!" Having given that last 'warning', Vernon drove off, leaving his nephew alone in the street.

Shaking his head, Harry turned his step towards the platforms. He didn't have enough money to while away at some cafe, and if he were to simply sit on some bench, he'd rather do that on a less crowded magical platform. He just hoped that the had memorized professor Flitwick's instructions on how to get there right. After all, he was sure that the guards haven't heard anything about the platform 9 ¾ and would think he was crazy or a hooligan or something if he started asking questions about it.

Thankfully, he remembered those instructions right, and the portal leading to the magical side of Kings Cross was indeed where the young Potter expected it to be. And stepping through it, he found himself standing under a wrought-iron archway with the inscription "Platform 9 ¾" on it. Further ahead, he could see a sign saying "Hogwarts Express, 11:00". There was no sign of the Express itself, however.

In fact, a wizard in crimson robes and a couple of station workers were the only other people on the platform right now. Shrugging, Harry settled on the nearest bench and pulled his Potions textbook from his bag and began reading. It wasn't an especially interesting read, but it was something that he needed familiarize himself with. Doubly so because the Hogwarts' Potions Master was said to be very strict and to hold his student to a very high standard. And Harry had no desire to be on that man's bad side...

* * *

At about a quarter past ten, the Hogwarts Express finally arrived. It was an old-style train of maybe ten cars with a scarlet steam engine at its head. And while there still were only so many people on the platform, Harry wasted no time in boarding the train and occupying a compartment for himself. He chose one at the very end of the Express in hopes that the older students would not bother him too much there – every school had its share of bullies, and the green-eyed boy would rather not deal with Hogwarts' ones yet. Once he settled in 'his' compartment, Harry went straight back to reading his Potions textbook.

Apparently, his guess had been quite spot on and the majority of the Hogwarts students would rather sit somewhere in the front cars. And those who didn't mind settling here, at the tail end of the train, were content to let him have a compartment to himself. Thus, Harry got to enjoy relative peace for quite a while. In fact, it lasted until the train was about to depart. Then, a pair of identical twins, likely second or third year students, decided to invite themselves into 'his' compartment...

"Let's dump our things here and go look for Lee. He said he'll bring something really cool onto the train." One of the twins said as he casually threw his trunk onto the luggage rack.

"Well, there is some bookworm firstie here." The other twin said. "But I believe we can trust him not to steal the results our hard work, Fred." He then leaned towards Harry and addressed him directly: "Can we?" The young Potter tried lean away from the redhead who was currently invading his personal space. Before the situation could escalate into the direction he wouldn't like, however, Fred butted in.

"How won't, right?" Nodding eagerly, Harry hoped that the pair would leave to look for their friend soon, thus letting him have his peace once again. "See, George." Fred continued. "Our things are safe with this mighty guardian, firstie the bookworm!" There was a pause, before he asked: "What are you reading, by the way?" The younger wizard showed him the book's cover.

"I've heard that the Potions professor is quite strict and it might be unwise to come to his lessons unprepared." The twins nodded in perfect unison.

"That's quite true. The greasy git-..." George began.

"...We, of course, mean handsome and kind professor Snape-..." Fred inserted into his twin's speech.

"...Indeed likes his students to very well prepared for his lessons. And if you are not, well... Detentions and loss of house points will ensue."

"Unless, you are a slimy Slytherin, of course." Fred added. "Snape will never take a point from a student from his own house."

"Uh... Okay." Harry said after a few seconds of an awkward silence.

"Alright, firstie." George said then. "We're off to find our friend, Lee. Guard our things with your life and make sure no one takes what is ours. See ya." And with that the twins left the compartment, leaving Harry alone with his Potions textbook...

* * *

It wasn't until the lunch time when the green-eyed Potter's peace was disturbed again. But this time it wasn't some Hogwarts student, but a smiling, dimpled witch with a trolley full of various magical snacks and candies. And seeing that abundance made Harry realize that he was quite hungry... Plus, he barely ever got to taste sweets while living under the Dursleys' roof, so now that he was away from them, he wanted to make up for it.

Thus, he bought a little of everything. Well, almost: the chocolate frogs were charmed to move and act like real frogs, and the green-eyed boy had absolutely no desire to eat something like that. Even if he could understand that this wasn't an actual being, but just some chocolate put under a couple of spells. As for the snacks he did buy, most of them were pretty good, though he did have some pretty bad luck with Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans: sprouts and ear wax weren't the flavors he really wanted in his sweets, and neither was smoked and very salty fish.

Done with his 'lunch', Harry went back to reading. Though, he decided that he had had enough Potions for now and picked his Transfiguration textbook instead.

* * *

At four or five in the afternoon – it was hard to tell without a watch – the red-haired twins popped into 'his' compartment to take their things, before disappearing again, presumably to rejoin their friend, Lee. Aside from that, the rest of the train ride went peacefully for the young Potter. And he really liked that.

It was around the sunset when the train conductor informed everyone that the train will be reaching the Hogsmeade station in half an hour. Setting his book aside, Harry quickly changed into the black robes that were his school uniform: according to the rulebook, he had to be wearing it for all of his classes and all of the important events, like the welcoming feast. Then he returned to reading his Transfiguration textbook, hoping to finish the chapter before the train ride was over.

* * *

Alas, the Fates decided that he wouldn't get a chance to do that: he was still a page and a half away from the end of the chapter when the train began slowing down and the conductor announced that they will be arriving to the Hogsmeade station in a couple of minutes. The students were also instructed to leave their luggage on the train, since it will be taken to the school separately... Letting out a small sigh, the young Potter packed his book into his school bag and left the compartment, joining several older students in the corridor.

Soon enough, the Hogwarts Express stopped next to a small and not very well lit platform. Allowing the throng before him get off first, Harry stepped out of the train. And he was immediately greeted by cool Scottish twilight. The clear skies weren't completely dark yet, but myriads of shining stars could already be seen. He didn't get much of a chance to stargaze, though, as a booming voice called:

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" The voice belonged to giant of a man, whose face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard. Yet, despite his quite intimidating size, the man's glinting black eyes didn't have a trace of malice in them. "Any more firs' years?" The man, who turned out to be the Hogwarts' gamekeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, called again as Harry and a few of his future classmates joined the crowd. "Alright! Firs' years! Follow me! And mind yer step!" Hagrid said as he began guiding the first year students off the platform and towards a steep, narrow path that led towards a big, dark lake.

Thanks to fair weather, the walk was quite pleasant. But there were little doubts in Harry's mind that it wouldn't be so on a rainy day. How come no one had thought about paving this path and installing some handrails?

Upon arriving to the edge of the lake, the young Potter caught his first sight of the Hogwarts castle. And just like the other first years, he was amazed by what he saw. Hogwarts was a vast castle with many turrets and towers situated atop a high mountain; and its many windows were sparkling in the starry sky with warm lights, as if inviting everyone in... Once again, though, he didn't get much of a chance to enjoy the scenery.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing towards a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. The young Potter ended up sharing a boat with a pretty raven-haired girl of oriental descent and a blondish boy with curly hair. Due to an odd number of students this year, their boat didn't get a fourth passenger. "Everyone in?" The Hogwarts' gamekeeper, who had a whole boat to himself, shouted. "Right then – **forward**!"

* * *

The fleet of little boats crossed the Black Lake and then entered a well-hidden tunnel that led into an underground harbor. Once there, the boats stopped and Hagrid told everyone to disembark. He then made sure that no one got lost or left behind, after which he approached the castle door and knocked on it three times with his gigantic fist. After a moment, the door swung open, revealing a tall witch with graying hair and stern face. "The firs' years, professor McGonagall." The gamekeeper said.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." Professor McGonagall replied as she pulled the door wide open, inviting the students into an entrance hall that lay beyond the door. From there, she guided them to a small, empty chamber off the castle's Great Hall. "Welcome to Hogwarts." The witch said. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses." And she gave everyone a quick overview of what the schools' four houses were and what were their purposes. When she was done with the explanation, she said: "I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

The silence, however, lasted for maybe five seconds after she closed the chamber's door. Then many began whispering, offering their guesses about how they will be sorted. Harry remained quiet and listened to what the others said. Of course, most of the guesses were extremely unlikely, but... Suddenly, there was a girlish shriek, followed by a few more. Looking there, the young Potter saw a group of ghost – very real ghosts! – floating through walls and students alike as they discussed something among themselves. Apparently, they were trying to decide, whether someone named 'Peeves' deserved yet another 'second chance'.

A couple of ghosts then turned their attention towards the students and welcomed them to Hogwarts. Then they hurried after their less talkative ethereal companions and floated out of the chamber through another wall, presumably to the Great Hall. And just as the final ghost disappeared from sight, professor McGonagall returned.

"The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." The stern witch said. "Now, please, form a line and follow me." Harry picked a spot near the end of the line. Once the line was formed, professor McGonagall lead everyone out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall. Which, indeed, was great and awe-inspiring. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting.

And while Harry and his classmates were greedily taking in the sight of the Great Hall, professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of them. On top of the stool she put a patched and frayed and extremely dirty pointed wizard's hat. A few moments later, the hat twitched and a rip resembling a mouth opened near its brim. Then, the hat started _singing_. It wasn't a very good song, but, then again, it apparently was composed by a hat itself! Once the Sorting Hat finished singing and the applause died down, the sorting ceremony began:

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." Professor McGonagall instructed as she stepped forwards, holding a parchment with the list of the students to be sorted. "Bell, Katie!" She called. A few moments later a scared brown-haired girl stumbled out of the line and walked up to the stool. After maybe half a minute of sitting under the Sorting Hat, she became the first new Gryffindor. The Hat's proclamation was followed by thundering clapping from the members of the said house. Once it died down, the next name was called... It was quite a while, perhaps a whole hour, before professor McGonagall finally reached Harry's name. And, apparently, seeing it in the list shocked her into silence.

"Everything alright, Minerva?" The Headmaster asked as stood up from his gilded throne-like chair. The said witch nodded weakly, before finally reading the next name from the list.

"Potter, Harry!" For several long seconds, the whole Great Hall was completely silent. Then, it exploded with whispers as everyone, including the professors, was wondering what the hell was going on: everyone had been under the impression that the young Potter wasn't coming to Hogwarts until the next year.

Meanwhile, Harry stepped out of the line and, doing his best to ignore those whispers as well as the people staring at him, walked up to the stool and placed the Sorting Hat on top of his head.

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	4. Sorted

And here is the fourth chapter!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **Tommy14** , well, yeah, these Dursleys are quite a bit nicer that their most common fanon depiction.  
 **evans16** , **Slytherin Studios** , **Story341** , **Mangahero18** , **Wyrtha** , **davycrockett100** , **Volksbrot** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **magitech** , I couldn't fit McGonagall catching Flitwick not being surprised by Harry's unexpected arrival into this chapter. Perhaps, in the next one?  
 **The Richmaster** , I won't tell you here, which house Harry will get sorted - you'll have to read the chapter to find out. ;) As for why Harry got enrolled into Hogwarts a year too soon, well... My personal headcanon is that it is the result of whatever happened on the Halloween night just short of ten years ago. Perhaps, it is because of the horcrux? Or simply because Harry got touched by Death on that Halloween night? Of course, you are free to pick your own explanation.

 *** AN**: Great thanks to my friend **Lupine Horror** for his help in polishing this chapter.

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text_

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon  
Chapter I** **V: Sorted  
**

' _Well, well, well, what do we have here?_ ' Harry heard a voice inside his head. It took him a couple of moments to realize that it actually was the Sorting Hat that communicated with him. ' _I must say, this is quite a surprise, Mr. Potter. You weren't expected until the next year. But, regardless, you are here now, and I have to sort you._ ' The Hat was silent for a second or two, before continuing. ' _Hm..._ ' It said. ' _Difficult, quite very difficult. Then again, what else I should've expected from someone as unique as you are, Mr. Potter._ '

' _Sorry?_ ' The green-eyed boy offered.

' _I can see plenty of courage in you._ ' The Hat continued, apparently ignoring his apology. ' _As well as a sharp mind, and quite a bit of talent. You also aren't afraid of hard work... And then there is this nice thirst to prove yourself... Yes, you're definitely one of the most interesting students I've sorted in great many years, Mr. Potter._ '

' _So... Which house you are going to put me in?_ ' Harry asked. He could feel everyone in the Great Hall staring at him, and that was not a feeling he enjoyed.

' _Well..._ ' The Sorting Hat said. ' _While Helga certainly valued hard work in her students, she prized loyalty even more. And, at least at this very moment, you are loyal only to yourself, Mr. Potter._ ' Well, the green-eyed wizard snorted, he certainly had no loyalty towards the Dursleys. ' _Indeed, Hufflepuff might not be the best house for you, even if you do have potential there._ ' After a moment, the Hat continued: ' _Likewise, despite your sharp mind, Ravenclaw might not suit you well either._ '

' _Why not?_ ' Harry asked.

' _You see, Rowena and those who follow her teachings see knowledge as a great treasure, something that is of great worth by itself. You, however, view knowledge merely as a tool that you need in order to achieve your goals. That is more in line with Salazar's views._ ' The Hat explained.

' _So, you're putting me in Slytherin then?_ ' The young Potter inquired.

' _If you would like that._ ' The magical artifact currently sitting atop of his head replied. ' _Indeed, You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that. But you also possess the courage that Godric so liked to see in his students. Gryffindor would be a fine choice for you as well._ '

' _A-are you saying that I get to pick which house I'll join?_ ' Harry asked in surprise. ' _I mean... Isn't that your job to sort the students?_ ' The Hat replied with a laugh.

' _Indeed it is. However, when someone fits well into more than one house, I let that student make their preferences known. After all, would you enjoy being stuck in a house you don't like for seven year?_ ' The green-eyed wizard certainly agreed that it would take a lot of fun out magical schooling. ' _So, yes, I will let you cast your vote on which house you want to join._ ' But at the moment Harry had no preference towards either Gryffindor or Slytherin. And the Hat, apparently, could sense that. ' _Can't decide where you want to go yourself, eh? Still, you have a thirst to prove yourself. And what house will be better to help you reach your greatness than..._ ' "Slytherin!" The last word was spoken for everyone in the Great Hall to hear.

And for the second time tonight, the entire Great Hall was shocked into complete silence. Neither students nor professors could believe that the Boy-Who-Lived and the supposed child of Light got himself sorted into the snake pit. Yet, the changes of the crest on Mr. Potter's robes and of his necktie clearly showed that he indeed has just been sorted into Slytherin.

The members of the house of the Serpent were the first ones to recover from this surprise, and even though quite a few of them would rather see a Potter sorted somewhere else, they still gave him a round of applause. Which was soon joined by the students from other houses and even the professors, though a good number of them did it purely on reflex.

Harry, meanwhile, took the Sorting Hat off and, ignoring the stares he was once again receiving, made his way to the table where his new housemates were sitting...

 **~/ *** \~**

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was doing his best to maintain his usual kind grandfatherly smile in spite of the events that were taking place in front of him, and thanks to decades of training in mind arts, he was almost succeeding in this task. Almost. The two great shocks he had just experienced still were a little bit too much for his old heart.

Harry Potter wasn't supposed to enter Hogwarts this year. Not only the boy was too young, but also the school was ready for him. Indeed, Harry needed a very special guidance to fulfill a certain prophecy and finally end Dark Lord Voldemort. And the aged headmaster wasn't ready to provide him with this guidance just yet. Though, not all was lost on that front yet, Dumbledore though: while the young Potter's unexpected arrival a year too soon did throw sand into the wheels of his plans for the boy, those plans were malleable enough to be easily altered to account for this extraordinary happening. Plus, Albus thought, letting Harry fully enjoy his first year at Hogwarts wouldn't be a bad idea, even with the ever-present threat of Voldemort's return.

Much worse than Harry's early arrival was his sorting. The boy wasn't supposed to end up in Slytherin. And while Dumbledore was perfectly aware that being sorted into that house didn't automatically make one evil or something like that, not everyone on the Light side shared this belief. Harry would most definitely need allies in his fight against Voldemort, and getting sorted into the 'house of dark wizards' didn't win him any support from the Light families.

Then there was the fact that Harry will be spending next seven years together with the children of those who fought for Voldemort during the Blood War. One could only hope that these children weren't poisoned by the dark beliefs of their parents and won't seek retribution for what had happened to their parents' master on the fateful Halloween night.

* * *

Severus Snape too was greatly surprised by the events that took place during the sorting ceremony. The Potter spawn had somehow entered his life a whole year earlier than expected. And, even worse than that, the brat had the audacity to get sorted into his house! This meant that he couldn't even hate the boy like he really wanted to, and will have to protect him when in public...

Pushing his hatred for his schoolyard nemesis and anything directly associated with him aside, Severus tried to examine his newest ward impartially. Not many truly believed in his professionalism as a teacher and a head of a house, and he certainly didn't help his image much, but he'll be damned before he let one of his snakes get hurt because of his own negligence or personal feelings. And while it wasn't easy for him to see past the image of James Potter that haunted him from the moment he looked upon Harry, Severus managed that. He wasn't a master of his own mind for nothing!

And he wasn't particularly happy with what he saw. Between his own abusive father and a number of his wards that suffered abuse from their families, the Hogwarts' Potions Master could see pretty clearly that the Potter hadn't had a perfect childhood. Thankfully, it didn't look like the boy had had it truly bad, but he certainly didn't grow up like a prince. What he could do about this situation? And what he was actually willing to do about it, though?

After some thinking, Severus decided that he should ask the house elves to secretly give the boy – Harry – potions necessary to heal his undernourishment and all related health problems. He would also be there for the boy, but only if he came to him asking for help: he wasn't a nanny and wouldn't be following the brat's every step to magically solve all of his problems.

* * *

Down there with the students yet to be sorted, Minerva McGonagall too was greatly shocked by the decision the Sorting Hat has just made. Like so many others, she had thought that young Harry would become a Gryffindor just like his parents. Yet, it was decided that Slytherin was the best place for him. This made the Transfiguration mistress wonder, what other things that she had heard about James's and Lily's child were actually true.

Dumbledore had repeatedly claimed that Harry was safe and well cared for with the Dursleys, yet now that she saw the boy, Minerva wasn't sure she believed those claims anymore – he looked too small, even for a ten years old. It made the stern which question yet again, whether those _muggles_ were suitable guardians to him.

Suddenly, a traitorous and unpleasant question popped into her mind: was Harry truly capable of becoming the pillar of Light that the wizards and witches of Great Britain expected him to be? Or would he simply crumble and fall under the weight of their expectations? And she simply refused to think of what would happen, should Harry get corrupted by the tainted ideals of the darker families.

A subtle cough form Dumbledore alerted her that she was spacing out again. The Transfiguration mistress gave him a thankful nod and took a deep breath, doing her best to clear her mind from unnecessary thoughts and to concentrate on her current task: the sorting ceremony wasn't over yet and there still were first years waiting for their turn under the Sorting Hat. Letting out a barely audible sigh, she read the next name from the list...

 **~/ *** \~**

Once all new students were sorted, professor McGonagall carried the Sorting Hat and the stool away. Meanwhile, headmaster Dumbledore stood up from his throne-like chair and addressed the students:

"Welcome, welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Mrs. Catherine Armstrong, who has kindly agreed to take this position." Looking up at the teachers' table, Harry saw a comely blue-eyed blond woman, who appeared to be in her late twenties. The students around the Great Hall seemed to like her and gave her some loud and long applause.

"You think she'll last more than a year?" An older Slytherin a couple of seats away from Harry asked his friend. The other boy shrugged, which caused the first one to sigh. "Five professors in five years... I hope that won't stop me from getting my OWL in DADA."

"Ah..." Harry breathed out, extremely nervous about asking an older student a question. "You say you've had a different professor every year?" Apparently, he needn't worry too much as the teen turned out to be a bit friendlier than his appearance suggested.

"Yeah." He replied. "They say the position itself is cursed; no professor since sixties managed to last for more than a year and a half." The older boy shook his head. "And since every professor follows a personal curriculum, preparing for the standardized magical exams – OWLs for those in my year and NEWTs for seventh years – is such a pain in the ass."

"I see..." Harry replied, having no idea what to think about this. Meanwhile, Dumbledore finished his welcoming speech and the Feast began. The golden dishes in front of the young Potter were now piled with food of all kinds. It looked like pretty much anything one could think of, from roast beef to fish and chips, was there. And suddenly Harry realized that he was really really hungry. So, wasting no time, he piled his plate with a bit of everything within his reach and began to eat.

* * *

Once the feast was over, headmaster Dumbledore got to his feet again, causing the buzzing with chatting hall to fall silent.

"Ahem." The aged wizard said. "Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you." After a moment of pause, he continued: "First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden. Some of the older students would do well to remember this as well." Dumbledore said, while his twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Gryffindor table. Next, he announced that the quidditch tryouts will be held in two weeks, which caused a number of students to start talking excitedly about the game and the houses' teams.

Finally, everyone was asked to sing the schools song, which caused the other teachers' smiles to become noticeably forced, while many of the students let out annoyed groans. And once Harry saw the words of that song, he understood their reactions – the song was ...not great, to say the least. And, what was even worse, there was no set tune and everyone could pick the one they wished... Needless to say, the end result was cacophony, though, the aged headmaster didn't appear to notice that.

"Ah, music," He said, wiping his eyes, once the (forced) applause died down. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" Almost immediately, the Slytherin prefects rose from their seats and moved to stand in the empty space by the table's end.

"First years, gather here!" The male prefect – a big and burly seventh year with closely-shaved brown hair – called in a fittingly-booming voice. Thankfully, his female counterpart wasn't anywhere as scary, though she didn't look like an epitome of friendliness either with her cold aristocratic features... Once all thirteen Slytherin firsties assembled 'round the prefects, the male one spoke again: "We will now guide you to the Slytherin common room. Please follow us."

"And, please, do your best to memorize the route we'll take. We will guide you to the Great Hall for breakfast tomorrow morning, but after that you will be on your own." The female prefect added just as the group headed towards the Great Hall's doors. Once outside, they walked past the Grand Staircase and entered the dungeons.

Harry immediately noticed that, unlike the brightly lit and populated with numerous portraits halls above, the dungeon corridors were lit rather dimly and the dark stone walls were mostly bare. What's more, as they got deeper into the maze-like dungeons, the young Potter noticed that the walls were getting a little damp. It was almost as if the tunnels they were following led under the Black Lake... And the green-eyed boy wasn't sure he enjoyed the thought of thousands of tons of water resting above his head. Still, should there be some windows into the lake, the view will most definitely be fantastic.

Another couple of minutes of walking, and the prefects stopped in front of a short stretch of a bare wall situated between two bookcases with fakes of old tomes and scrolls.

"This is where the entrance into the Slytherin common room is located." The male prefect said. "In order to enter, you will need to say the correct password. Make sure that you memorize it well when we tell it to you in a minute. And be sure that you keep the password a secret from those who don't belong to the noble house of Slytherin. Fail to do so, and the consequences will be most severe." He threatened the firsties in front of him.

"Might of Magic." The female prefect said then. A moment later, the concealed stone door slid aside, revealing a short passage leading the common room proper.

And what a room it was! It was a very large low underground room, lit by a number of round greenish lamps that hung from the ceiling on short chains. The ceiling itself was supported by two rows of columns and was designed to look like ceiling of a cave, complete with fate stalactites. The walls were lined with rough stone and were decorated with tapestries featuring the adventures of famous Medieval Slytherins. There also was a large panoramic window, allowing one to observe the life in the Black Lake... In the far corner of the room there was a portrait of the house's founder, Salazar Slytherin himself. Though, according to the prefects, this portrait never spoke to anyone... The room had lots of low backed black and dark-green button-tufted leather sofas, some of which were occupied by older students.

"Welcome to the Slytherin common room." The male prefect said. "All important information will be posted on the noticeboard. Make sure that you consult it regularly." He said while nodding towards the aforementioned noticeboard. "Each of you was given a small personal room, and these rooms will be yours until you graduate from Hogwarts. The rooms have some charms and wards to ensure your comfort and privacy, and you are allowed to add your own ones. Your things were brought from the train and are waiting for you in your rooms. But before you are allowed to go there and retire for the night, our head of the house, professor Severus Snape, wishes to have some words with you."

Right on the cue, the aforementioned Potions Master walked into the common room, his black cloak billowing behind him dramatically.

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	5. The First Night and the First Day

And here is the fifth chapter!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **Wyrtha** , who knows, who knows...  
 **Tommy14** , **Mangahero18** , talking to the portrait in parseltongue will happen. Eventually. Definitely not in this chapter or the next few ones, though.  
 **Slytherin Studios** , **geetac** , **za worlda** , **jamnaz79** , **davycrockett100** , **Gracealma** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **C. Wade** , that's my standard footer for the stories' chapters. Is it annoying or something? As for clishe-ing the story... Well, I will lie if I say that there will no cliches, but I will try to weed out as many of them as possible.  
 **The Richmaster** , well, administrative error it is then, for you.  
 **G** , Harry is ten years old. He just doesn't have the wisdom of those older and more experienced, no matter how mature he might appear. Cut him some slack for not thinking about that.

 *** AN**: Great thanks to **Remilia - The Scarlet Moon** for his help in polishing this chapter.

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text_

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon  
Chapter ****V: The First Night and the First Day**

"I congratulate you all on being sorted into the noble house of Slytherin. This is a great privilege and honor, and it shows that you possess such important qualities for succeeding in the magical world as cunning, ambitiousness and resourcefulness." Professor Snape said smoothly as he stopped in front of the assembled first years. "Many of the greatest historical figures of magical world were once students of this house, and I hope that you too will not be content with being unremarkable dunderheads and will rise to greatness as well." After making a short pause, the Potions Master continued: "I understand that you have had an eventful day and wish to retire for the night, but before I let you do just that I need to bring you up to speed on how the things are done here, in Slytherin."

"As some of you are already aware, Slytherin does not have the best reputation with the other three houses of Hogwarts." The female prefect, whose name still eluded Harry, said. "And as such, we can't afford to show disunity." Professor Snape nodded.

"Indeed." He confirmed. "Whatever problems you have with each other, they must be resolved here. Outside of the common room, you _will_ protect each other against the attacks from the members of other houses. Break this rule, and I will be most displeased. Likewise, as long as you don't do something monumentally stupid, I will exercise my power to keep your official record clear. But do not believe that your foolishness will go unpunished for I will make you regret acting thoughtlessly. If you absolutely need to break rules, do so without getting caught. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." The assembled first years chorused, some less eagerly than the others.

"The Slytherin common room is our safe haven that has not been breached in many centuries, and we all would like it to remain this way. As such, you will never reveal its location or the current password to those from other houses." Waiting for a confirmation that he was heard, professor Snape continued: "While Slytherin prizes resourcefulness and self-reliance, we understand that you can't solve all of your problems on your own, not yet anyway. And as such, if you find something that is clearly beyond your abilities, do not hesitate to ask the prefects or myself for some help. We will be very displeased, however, is you bother us with something that is not worthy of our attention, understood?"

"Yes, sir." The firsties chorused once again.

"Finally, Slytherin is not the place for dunderheads and sluggards. And while you aren't expected to be straight-O students, I'd rather you don't bring shame to the house by failing any of your classes." The Potions Master said, while sending a venomous glare at one of the older boys in the common room. Harry and his fellow first years meanwhile chorused 'yes, sir!' yet another time. "Good." Professor Snape then said with a curt nod. "This would be all for now." And with that he turned around and walked out of the common room, his cloak billowing behind him in the non-existent wind.

"Now let us show you your rooms." The male prefect spoke after a few moments of silence. "Boys, you are with me; girls – please follow Ms. Farley." And without saying anything else he headed towards the boys' dormitories, forcing Harry and the other five boys to hurry after him.

* * *

The dormitories consisted of seven blocks, each having twenty four rooms to house the students plus a lavatory and a shower-room. For a moment Harry wondered why there were so many rooms when his class was so small and the upper years didn't appear to be much bigger. Then he realized that in the past Hogwarts likely had way more students in the past than it had now. Or, perhaps, the dormitories had been built big enough to accommodate every student, even if only roughly a quarter of them actually got sorted into Slytherin?

Those thoughts, however, were quickly put out of the young Potter's mind when the prefect showed him – and the other first year boys – in their dormitory block. Not wasting any more time, the green-eyed boy went to examine the room he had been assigned. And, well, compared to the cupboard under the stairs or the attic at #4, Privet drive, it was actually pretty damn big. It also was better furnished than those _places_ too:

In this room there were a sizable four-poster bed with green covers, a wardrobe and a chest that could fit several times the things the green-eyed wizard owned, a table with a comfortable-looking chair and several big shelves for books and other studying materials. Finally, there was an aged clock on the wall across from the bed, and, apparently, it was a bit past ten in the evening, so the young Slytherin decided that, since tomorrow was the first day of his classes, he should call it a day now.

 **~/ *** \~**

Professor Flitwick poured himself a glass of Ogden's finest and was about to begin his private celebration of the beginning of the new school year, when professor McGonagall invaded his office. And she didn't appear to be in the best of her moods.

"Something I can do for you, Minerva?" The diminutive wizards asked while inviting her to have a drink with him. The Transfiguration Mistress, however, was in no mood for that.

"Filius." She said sternly. "During the sorting ceremony I noticed that Mr. Potter's sudden arrival didn't surprise you. You knew about it beforehand, didn't you?" She asked.

"Yes, I was aware that Mr. Potter would be joining us a year earlier than expected. I did introduce him to the wizarding world back in July after all." Professor Flitwick confirmed. A moment later he raised his hand, telling his colleague to let him finish before tearing into him. "As for why I didn't tell anyone, well, Mr. Potter's name was there along with other muggle-born and muggle-raised children; I was under the impression that you already knew about it."

"I see..." Was all that the deputy headmistress could say. It was really irksome for her to accept that her own blind trust into the admission system that led to the surprises earlier today. "And what should we do about Mr. Potter, Filius?" She asked after several long moments of silence. "He's very young and, I'm afraid, he'll need help in order to keep up with his classmates."

"We do nothing. Not without him asking for our help, at least." The Charms Master replied. "During the visit to the Diagon Alley I came to know that Mr. Potter doesn't like being in the center of attention. And between him being the Boy-Who-Lived and his early enrollment, he will be subjected to more attention by his classmates and other students than he would ever want to. There is no need for us to make it even worse by giving him some preferential treatment."

"Vert well." Minerva said. She clearly wasn't happy with letting Harry fend for himself, but she did agree with Filius that treating him as someone special would likely only make things worse for him... There was a pretty long moment of silence, before the Transfiguration Mistress spoke again: "Can I have a glass of fire-whiskey, Filius?" She asked. The part-goblin professor nodded a poured her some.

 **~/ *** \~**

Elsewhere in the castle, headmaster Dumbledore was thinking hard about what other steps he should take regarding Harry's sudden and unexpected arrival to Hogwarts and his sorting into Slytherin. And while the aged warlock already decided to let the boy enjoy a carefree first year at Hogwarts – the training that the young Potter will need to fulfill a certain prophecy and finally end Voldemort could wait until later – it didn't mean that he wouldn't do his best to prevent the things from stacking against the Greater Good.

Indeed, Harry needed to be safeguarded against the worst of the surprises the life in Slytherin might present him with. And to do that, Dumbledore knew, he will have to interfere in the little savior's life even more than he already did, no matter how bad that made him feel. Indeed, the old headmaster was well-aware of the thing called self-fulfilling prophecy, and he most definitely didn't want young Harry to become an actual Dark Lord because some idiots kept telling him he was one just because he got sorted into Slytherin.

Thus, Dumbledore decided that tampering with someone's mail would be rather justified in this case: by adjusting the castle's wards to intercept the letters addressed to young Harry he will keep him safe from hateful and cursed mail. Plus, it was not like the boy had any friends that would write him at the moment... And even if he did somehow, the Hogwarts headmaster was sure that he will be forgiven for what he did to keep the young Potter safe.

 **~/ *** \~**

As usual, Harry woke up quite early in the morning. And, after going through his morning routine, he busied himself with unpacking his admittedly scant possessions properly. Yet, despite owning only so much, it still took him quite a bit of time to organize everything at his ease. In fact, by the time he was finally done it was almost the breakfast time. So, putting on his Hogwarts uniform, the young Potter headed to the common room where the prefects were supposed to be waiting for the first years.

And, indeed, Ms. Farley was there, leaning against the wall next to the exit from the common room. It looked like he was the first one to 'join' her too as he couldn't see any of his classmates around.

"Good morning." The green-eyed wizard greeted the prefect politely.

"Mornin'." The older girl mumbled under her breath rather apathetically while also stifling a yawn. Shrugging, Harry moved to stand close by as the two of them waited for the rest of the firsties to gather up... The said wait turned out to be a little longer than the young Potter expected as it was almost twenty minutes before the last of his classmates – a boy named Roy McKinley – emerged from the dormitories and joined their little group. "Follow me." Ms. Farley commanded before setting out for the Great Hall.

* * *

If there was one thing the young Potter definitely liked about Slytherin, it was the fact that the absolute majority of the house pretended that he was nothing special. Or, at very least, they didn't openly stare at him or gossip about him within his earshot. The students from the other three houses, unfortunately, weren't as nice. Thus, the moment he emerged from the Slytherin dungeons, Harry found himself in the center of their pointed attention. And he didn't like it at all.

Thankfully for him, though, Ms. Farley decided that this was the perfect opportunity to demonstrate what Slytherin Unity was all about, and proceeded to shield his from the unwanted and much unwelcome attention. And since she was a seventh-year prefect, it even worked somewhat, allowing the young Potter to enjoy his breakfast in relative peace.

And what a breakfast it was! The dishes was varied and aplenty – though not as much as they were during the feast yesterday – and quite delicious too. Even a simplest porridge was tasty! Whoever were the cooks here, they certainly had Harry's compliments.

Around the middle of the breakfast, the owls with the morning post arrived, startling Harry and others who weren't used to this. Even the first years raised in the fully-magical households didn't seem to be immune to this as they have never seen this many owls make their deliveries at once... Understandably, though, none of owl had anything for the young Potter: the Dursleys would never send him anything even if it didn't involve anything they considered 'freakish', and he knew no one else who would even have a reason to write to him. He accepted this, but he still felt a prickle of jealousy when he saw other kids receive packages from their homes.

Once the owls flew away, professor Snape descended towards the Slytherin table, carrying a stack of parchments in his hands. Those turned out to be the timetables, and when the Potions Master gave Harry his, he paused for a moment, almost as if wanting to say something to the green-eyed wizard. Ultimately, however, he decided against it and continued handing out the timetables... Shrugging, Harry studied at the piece of parchment laying on the table in front of him:

And, well, today he had History of Magic first thing in the morning, followed by a double Defense Against the Dark Arts. There were no classes in the afternoon, but there was an Astronomy class late in the evening. All in all, the green-eyed boy decided, this wasn't a bad first day of classes...

* * *

Harry's hopes for interesting lessons about the past of the magical world were cruelly dashed when he discovered who was teaching the class. Professor Binns was a ghost. And beyond that he seemed to no longer possess any drive to teach, instead chanting monotonously on and on, and thus managed to make the class deathly boring. The fact that he made absolutely no deviations from the textbook didn't help sparking any interest in his lectures either... By the end of the class, Harry decided that as long as professor Binns was teaching History, it would be just an extra hour for him to sleep or do other classes' homework. His classmates seemed to agree with him there as quite a few had fallen asleep during the Binns' lecture.

On the other hand, the Defense Against the Dark Art turned out to be as interesting a class as its name implied. Even if professor Armstrong was yet to teach them any actual spells and instead concentrated on explaining the difference between hexes, jinxes and curses, as well as the best ways of avoiding getting hit by them. It was an... informative class, even if Harry and many of his classmates would rather be taught some flashy spells than be instructed on how to run away and hide in order to survive until someone better versed in magical combat showed up to deal with a dark wizard attacking them.

* * *

After the lunch, Harry dropped by his room in the Slytherin dormitories to drop off his schoolbag, and, just like he had decided when he got his timetable earlier today, went to explore the castle. Indeed, it sounded like a good idea to know where each of the classrooms was located: if it wasn't for the prefects showing them where the DADA classroom was located, the entirety of Slytherin first years would have been late for the class. And professor Armstrong didn't look like someone who would overlook such tardiness, even on the first day. With that in mind, Harry took his timetable as well as a piece of parchment and a quill to take notes with him on his little 'adventure'.

His exploration of the castle started well enough as he managed to locate the Hogwarts Library pretty quickly. Unfortunately, this good luck didn't hold, and, almost as soon as the young Potter finished mapping the important locations on the first floor and went up to the second, he ran into trouble:

"Look, what do we have here?" A hateful voice asked. It belonged to a rheumatic man with hunched shoulders and a hunchback. The man had a horribly pouchy and pasty face, bulging pale eyes and sunken veined cheeks... Far from a pleasant visage. "Some annoying little bugger who wants nothing more than make the life of old Argus Filch a living hell..."

"I'm only exploring the castle so that I wouldn't get lost, sir." Harry tried to placate the man.

"Were you now?" Filch said, clearly not believing a word the green-eyed boy had said. Then he noticed the parchments in his hands. "What's this?" He asked while tearing those our of Harry's grasp. And, unfortunately for the said wizard, his barely-started hand-drawn map of the castle was on top. "Aha!" Filch exclaimed triumphantly. "Planning some big, nasty prank are we? We can't have, now can we?" And with that he tore both Harry's map and his timetable underneath it into tiny pieces. Ignoring the boy's protests, he continued: "I would love nothing more than to hang troublemakers like you by their toes in my dungeon and lash them until they repent for their sins, but the old fool of the headmaster has forbidden such practices... Now I can't even give the brat like you a detection if I didn't catch you in the act..." Shaking his ugly head as he kept recalling the good old times when corporal punishments were the thing, Filch announced: "Twenty points from Slytherin for open trouble-making!" The young Potter stared at the man in utter shock, unable to fully process the injustice he had just been subjected to.

"B-but, sir, I..." He began, only to be interrupted by Filch.

"What more do you want from me, brat? Get lost before I too decide to forget about the rules and lash you till you scream and bleed!" After this, Harry wisely decided that arguing with this abhorrent excuse of a caretaker would only make his situation even worse, so he fled. Once sufficiently far away from Filch, the young Potter tried to think of what he should do next, and he definitely needed to do something: not only did he lose more or less all of the points Slytherin had at the moment, but he also was in the need of a new timetable now... And seeing as it was professor Snape who gave it to him this morning, Harry decided that paying his head of the house a visit was the best course of action.

* * *

Unfortunately for the young Potter, the Potions Master wasn't in his office in the Slytherin dungeons. And checking the Potions classroom nearby revealed that the man was teaching a class at the moment and likely wouldn't like it if he was disturbed... Letting out a heavy sigh, the green-eyed wizard leaned against the wall as he waited for the bell to ring.

He had to wait for fifteen or so minutes – which felt like several hours – but, eventually, the class was over. And once the older students began leaving the classroom, Harry walked in and approached his head of the house, who looked like he wasn't in the best of his moods.

"Something you need, Potter?" Professor Snape asked while trying to bore a hole through the green-eyed wizards head with his glare.

"Ah-... Yes, professor." Harry wizard replied with fake confidence. "You see... I was exploring the castle... Trying to find where all of the classrooms were located so that I wouldn't get lost and... I ran into Filch." Snape shifted a little at the mention of that man's name. Meanwhile, Harry continued: "He took my map of the castle, and my timetable... And destroyed them. And took points from me because he thought I was staging a prank or something."

"And were you?" The Potions Master asked, his glare now so intense that Harry felt like he was looking straight into his soul.

"O-of course not, professor." The young Potter replied, utterly terrified of the wizard in front of him.

"I see." Professor Snape said. "How many points did Filch take from you?"

"T-Twenty, sir." Harry replied.

"Very well." His head of the house said with a small sigh. "I will revoke this points loss, Mr. Potter. Also, take ten points to Slytherin for not being a dunderhead and ensuring that you will be able to find your way around the castle without getting lost."

"T-Thank you, sir!" Harry said quickly, not truly believing his luck; he hadn't had high hopes about professor Snape revoking the unjust loss of house points, and he certainly hadn't expected the man to actually praise him – by the way of giving him house points – for anything at all. Perhaps, the green-eyed wizard decided, his head of the house wasn't as bad man as his unfriendly appearance or the rumors spread by the students from other houses might suggest.

"And about your timetable, Mr. Potter." The Potions Master continued. "There were no extra copies made, so I can't give you a replacement right now, but I promise that you will have it given to you by the end of the dinner tonight." Harry nodded.

"Thank you, sir." He thanked professor Snape again. The man nodded, before continuing:

"And a word of advice, Mr. Potter: do your best to avoid Argus Filch. As you've experienced it yourself, he would not hesitate to punish you even if you did absolutely nothing wrong." He then made a pause for a brief moment: "Now get going."

"Yes, sir!" Harry replied as he hurried out of the Potions classroom.

* * *

Astronomy, in Harry's opinion, was an ...okay class. It was important, and professor Sinistra was quite passionate about it, but, honestly, being forced to point his telescope towards a certain star or planet took a lot of fun out of stargazing. The fact that the class took place so late in the night and he had to fight his sleepiness throughout the entire lecture didn't help any.

Still, like professor Sinistra had explained at the beginning of her class, Astronomy was a very important subject as good knowledge of skies above was quite necessary for achieving good results in several other branches of magic, such as astrology or rituals. Thus, despite being quite indifferent to Astronomy itself right now, Harry made a silent vow to study hard as he found himself quite interested in the ritual magic and decided that he wanted to study it one day.

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	6. The Twins in Green

And here is the sixth chapter!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **Tommy14** , **The Richmaster** , **ALiveTodaytoWrite** , **davycrockett100** , **Penny is wise** , **Rcjmat** , **Ranmaleopard** , **Shalifi** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **Jostanos** , **Wyrtha** , well, Filch is indeed the character who has no place around children. Actually, anyone here knows why he's even there in the first place? I mean, why would Hogwarts even need a squib caretaker when there is an army of house elves to clean, cook and do other jobs?  
 **Gracealma** , he didn't.

 *** AN**: Great thanks to **Remilia - The Scarlet Moon** for his help in polishing this chapter.

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text_

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon**  
 **Chapter VI: The Twins in Green**

As the amazement the young Potter felt towards Hogwarts and its magic began waning, he finally started noticing that not everything was sunshine and rainbows. His earlier encounter with Argus Filch had been just the tip of the proverbial iceberg: the unfriendly caretaker was far from the only person in the castle who didn't like him. In fact, now that he wasn't as distracted by the wonders of Magic, Harry was pretty sure that at least a half of Slytherin students was less than happy with him being sorted into the house. Especially the older ones. And the green-eyed wizard wasn't sure why: somehow, the fact that many of his housemates were the children of Death Eater and other, unmarked, followers of dark lord Voldemort escaped him.

Anyhow, things took a turn for the worst on Friday when the young Snakes had their first Herbology lesson, together with the Hufflepuff first years. The class started alright, and Harry thought that he might actually enjoy it... Then, professor Sprout asked everyone to pair up. And because there was an odd number of students in both houses, the young Potter found himself forced into taking some 'Puff as his partner – something that didn't earn him any favors with either of the houses. And then, because he didn't mind potting the plants, a few of the more snobbish Slytherins started looking at him with contempt since they thought that someone willing to dirty his hands like that wasn't worthy of being a part of the noble house Slytherin.

Thankfully for him it didn't go beyond the glares, so Harry had little trouble weathering the double Herbology. What came afterwards, however...

As he had no classes in afternoon that day, once he finished his lunch, the young Potter headed back to the Slytherin common room. And as he navigated the dungeons, he was trying to decided what to do in this free time of his. Perhaps, he should start doing his homework so that he can enjoy the weekend properly?.. That thought was thrown out of his mind as someone suddenly grabbed him from behind and threw him roughly against the bare stone wall of the corridor.

"Potter!" A male voice barked while its owner lifted the green-eyed boy off the floor, by his neck. And he was still seeing stars, Harry had some big trouble identifying his attacker. Still, even in his current state he could see that it was someone big, and wearing the Slytherin colors. "What the fuck were you doing today?" The currently-unidentified older boy asked angrily. "Fraternizing with Hufflepuffs? Hufflepuffs?! Do you think that you're too good for Slytherin?" With that the older wizard finally let Harry go, causing him to collapse onto the stone floor, coughing from the abuse his throat had just been subjected to. "Answer me!" The other boy demanded, while firing a bludgeoning spell at his knee.

"Argh!.." The young Potter hissed, gritting his teeth in pain.

"I'm waiting." His attacker said threateningly. And Harry had no illusions that he wouldn't be cursed again if he didn't give answer the questions he had been asked. So, doing his best to ignore the searing pain in his knee and the discomfort in his throat, he spoke:

"Someone w-would have t-to pair up w-with a Hufflepuff." The green-eyed wizard replied in a shaky voice. "It just s-so happened that I ended up w-without a housemate to p-partner with today." The older Slytherin let out an annoyed sound, but seemed to accept the explanation Harry gave him.

"And what about being so chummy with the 'Puffs?" He demanded.

"And would you rather I be an ass towards them?" The young Potter asked back with defiant boldness. "Why should I make an enemy out of the 'Puffs when being amiable with them would be much more beneficial to me?" This question seemed to catch the other boy flatfooted as he couldn't come up with a response for quite a bit.

"Grr... Fine." He said finally. "Do it your way, Potter." Harry let out a small and barely audible sigh of relief: he certainly didn't enjoy being a punchbag. "But, remember, I'll be watching you. And if I see you do something that I don't like – or something that shames Slytherin – I'll destroy you." He threatened. And, given what had just happened, it didn't look like a completely empty threat. "Oh, and don't tell professor Snape anything about this, or you'll regret it."

The green-eyed wizard replied nothing as he watched his attacker walk away, not paying him much attention anymore... Once the older boy disappeared behind a corner, Harry did his best to pick himself off the floor and, once successful, he began limping towards the Slytherin common room: it was closer than the hospital wing, and he didn't fancy explaining why his knee was hurt to the matron...

* * *

A couple of hours later Harry was sitting in the far corner of the common room, doing his damn best to concentrate on his homework. Which, between his still-hurting knee and a swarm of questions in his head, was far from easy. And this miserableness of his didn't go unnoticed by his housemates, even if he was doing his best to stay out of everyone's way right now...

"You don't look too well, Potter." One of the Carrow twins said as she and her sister approached him in his 'retreat'. "Something happened?" She asked then with some curiosity concealed in her voice. For the moment the green-eyed wizard remained silent as he studied the girls with his eyes, wondering why they've decided to approach him. However, it didn't look like they came to mock him or anything like that, so he relaxed a little.

"Yeah." He finally replied after a long period of silence. He contemplated about telling them about his earlier ...encounter with some older and violent Slytherin student, but ultimately decided against doing it: while he had been warned only against telling professor Snape about that altercation, Harry didn't want to try his luck by telling anyone else about it. "I... I don't think I'm really welcome here." He said instead. "Perhaps, the Sorting Hat made a mistake when it sorted me here?"

"Now, Potter, being stupid doesn't suit you; if the Hat decided to place you into Slytherin, then it is the best house for you." The second twin admonished him. "Still, you're right, Slytherin isn't the friendliest of the houses. This is especially true for you." She made a small pause, before continuing: "I'm sure, you're aware that the Dark Lord was a Slytherin during his days at Hogwarts." Harry nodded. "Well, so were many of his supporters. And it is their children who are your housemates." Well, the young Potter though, that certainly explained why he wasn't liked much here.

"And you are?.." He asked, trying his best not to sound fearful. The twins nodded.

"House Carrow did support the Dark Lord during the Blood War. Our father even died for the cause." They confessed. "But we certainly don't blame you for this – it happened before even we were born. And we ourselves don't subscribe to the Dark Lord's teachings." Harry let out a sigh of relief; he wasn't sure how he'd be able to go on if his classmates turned out to be dark wizards who were out for his blood because of something that had happened when he was but a toddler.

"Well, we do agree that the traditions of old need to be preserved." The other twin continued. "But killing everyone left, right and center like the Dark Lord did isn't the right way to go about it. And we aren't the only ones who think like this; many others share this sentiment."

"What Hestia is trying to say, Potter,.." So now it was Flora speaking, Harry noted; he really needed to find a way to tell the twins apart. "Is that while the people here might be cold towards you now, no one actually hates you to the point of wishing you real harm. And, provided you become a productive member of the house, they'll warm up to you eventually. Or, at least, they'll keep whatever problems they might have with you to themselves. Conforming to the preferred behavior standards would also help earn the people's approval, but you're an important enough figure in the magical world that you get some leeway here." She explained.

"I hope you're right..." The green-eyed boy breathed out. Indeed, being picked on and hexed was not how he wished to spend his years at Hogwarts. "Thank you." He added after a moment or two.

"And one more lesson about the Slytherin ways, Potter." Hestia said. "Information here has its price, always. It can be a favor, or some information of your own, or anything really." Harry suddenly got a bit nervous: he didn't have much he could give the twins and he wasn't sure that being indebted to them would be good for him. "Today, though, we're sharing the knowledge with you for free, Potter." The young wizard couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. "Just don't expect such generosity in the future."

"Ah... Thank you." Harry said. Flora and Hestia nodded in response, before turning around and walking away, leaving him alone once again. After sitting idly for a few moments, the green-eyed wizard tried going back to doing his homework, but he quickly found that he couldn't concentrate on it. Again. Though, this time it wasn't because of his aching knee; instead it was his mind working on the information the twins have given him that kept him from focusing on his homework.

And, well, he really hoped that the Carrow twins were right and being a model student would let him conduct himself according to his own set of morals and beliefs. For one, he simply didn't believe in looking down on someone simply because they weren't the same as him. He also had no desire to behave like a rude ass – that never ended well...

For now, though, he will have to be a little more conformable, the green-eyed Potter decided. At the moment he only had his ridiculous moniker to his name, and as the events earlier today had shown, it didn't offer him much protection against the displeasure of those who disagreed with his ethics. Of course, he wasn't going to turn himself into a stuck-up and crass bigot, even temporarily, but he would try his best to limit his interactions with the students from other houses, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor especially, for the time being.

 **~/ *** \~**

The Monday morning greeted Harry with a loud and boastful chatter of his classmates. The reason for this was quite simple: the flying lessons were announced. And now pretty much every boy who grew up in a magical household – and several who didn't – were bragging about their prowess on a broom to anyone who would listen. Several of the more tomboyish girl did that as well. And pretty much everyone was talking about Quidditch, even if the first match of the year wouldn't take place until late October or even early November.

The young Potter, however, had no idea what was exciting about that game. Then again, having had no positive experiences in playing together with other kids, he had developed no love towards team games. Or sports. Flying, on the other hand, did appeal to his somewhat-solitary nature. Yet, Harry had his doubts that something like a broomstick can be a comfortable ride. Well, he supposed, everything can be possible with magic, but...

Regardless of that, the young wizard was looking forward to the flying lessons. He was quite eager to try himself on a broom and experience the freedom of flying. That, and he hoped that once the lessons started, his classmates would finally stop with their bragging – that got old and annoying really fast.

* * *

At half past three on the Wednesday afternoon, the first years assembled on a large flat field next to the Quidditch arena for their first flying lesson. Lying on the grass in front of every student there was a broomstick. And none of those appeared to be less than a couple of decades old. Seriously, did Hogwarts not have funds to buy some newer and safer brooms? – Harry wondered as he examined a particularly-old broom some Ravenclaw girl got with a critical eye: that broomstick looked like it was held together by Magic alone!

His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of madam Hooch, the Hogwarts' flying instructor. She was a rather old but still full of life witch with short gray hair and yellow hawk-like eyes. In fact, her entire appearance made her look like some bird of prey.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" She barked as she approached her students. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up." Harry glanced at the broom lying on the ground in front of him. It was one of the better ones – Slytherin students got them thanks to arriving first – but it still looked way older then him, and there was a number of twigs that stuck out at odd angles. "Stick out your right hand over your broom and say ' _Up!_ '." Madam Hooch instructed. Addressing an inanimate object that couldn't even talk back like magical portraits or some (very annoying) mirrors was odd for the young Potter, but he still did as instructed.

"Up!" He called along with his classmates. Surprisingly enough, his broom jumped into his hand at once. Only a few others seemed to be as lucky; many of the broomsticks refused to obey and rolled on the ground or didn't move at all instead... Eventually, though, everyone succeeded in making the brooms follow to their command and jump into into their hands. And when that happened, madam Hooch moved onto the next part of her lesson: she showed the right way to mount a broom as well as the how to grip the handle correctly.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard." The witch instructed. "Keep your

brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle. Three... Two... One..." And a whistle. Not paying attention to what was going around him anymore, Harry kicked off the ground and... flew? It was an interesting feeling, and the green-eyed boy indeed found it enjoyable. Flying was awesome! Still, as great as it felt to be off the ground, Harry remembered the instructions he had been given, and reluctantly landed back onto the grassy field...

The class continued without any notable incidents as madam Hooch showed a number of tricks for flying a broomstick properly. And, when maybe twenty minutes remained till the end of the lesson, the witch decided to give her students a little treat and allowed them to fly freely.

For a few minutes everything was going fine – well, as fine as it can be with nearly four dozen children supervised by a single adult. Then a problem reared its ugly head... One of the older brooms, the one currently used by some Ravenclaw girls, suddenly started jolting randomly as whatever magics that were holding it together decided that right now was a good time to act up.

Harry, who was flying close by, noticed that and steered even closer to the girl so that he would be able to help her, should her broom give out or something. And it was a good thing he did that: a few moment later the broom jerked especially violently, and girl lost her grip and slid off her 'ride'...

Acting without actually thinking, the young Potter darted towards her, catching her by the nape of her robes just as she started falling towards the ground. A moment later, though, Harry found his broom to be not quite up to the task of supporting an additional rider as it started losing height rather speedily. Still, it wasn't quite a fall, and he even managed to pull a relatively gentle landing off.

"T-Thank you." The girl said weakly, quite shocked by what had just happened.

"Mr. Potter." Madam Hooch said, having apparently noticed his deed. "That was... an impressive flying. Take ten points for Slytherin for helping your classmates in dire situation."

"Thank you, professor." Was all that Harry could say in response at the moment. Nodding, the hawk-like witch went back to keeping an eye on their classmates still in the air. Meanwhile, both the young Potter and the girl whom he had just saved, decided that they've had enough excitement for the day and opted to stay on the firm ground for the rest of the lesson.

* * *

"Potter." Harry was called the moment he stepped inside the Hogwarts castle. And the young wizard recognized the voice as the one belonging to Marcus Flint, the older Slytherin who had roughed him up a few days ago for being 'too friendly' with some Hufflepuff. "We have to talk." The younger wizard gulped. But no matter how much afraid he might be right now, running away would only make the things worse for him. So... "You're pretty good on a broom, Potter? How long have you been flying?"

"Eh?.." Harry responded eloquently, completely caught off guard by the question he didn't expect. "Since today." He offered finally.

"That's ...most impressive." Flint said after a moment or two. "You certainly have a talent for flying then, Potter. Too bad, first years aren't allowed onto the Quidditch teams." Here he let out a theatrical sigh, before continuing: "But it'd be a crime to ignore a talent like yours; I want you to try out for the team next year, Potter. Understood?"

"O-Okay..." Harry replied, if only to get the scary teen off him.

"Good." Flint said, before turning around and walking away. As he disappeared in the crowd, Harry let out a deep sigh. As much as he liked flying today, he had no desire to play Quidditch. Yet, here he got more or less roped into trying for the team regardless... Damn it! Now, he could only hope that Flint would forget about this before the next school year rolled around...

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	7. To Change Oneself

And here is the seventh chapter!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **Tommy14** , **ALiveTodaytoWrite** , **davycrockett100** , **The Richmaster** , **Penny is wise** , **geetac** , **ARSLOTHES** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **Wyrtha** , and, hopefully, Marcus will forget about this and Harry will actually have a choice of whether he wants to play quidditch or not.  
 **JPElles** , the world is not black and white, and there aren't _that many_ people who are complete jerks and a-holes. So, almost anyone can be nice-ish at least once in a while.  
And to my dear _anonymous reviewer_ : I wish your flames were a little hotter - I would have been able to use them to keep my dinner warm then.

 *** AN**:  
Great thanks to **Remilia - The Scarlet Moon** for his help in polishing this chapter.

Also, I am terribly sorry for the delay with the chapter, but I've run head-first into a significant writer's block, and, well... Hopefully, this was a one-time-only thing and I will be able to write the next one down much faster.

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text_

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon**  
 **Chapter VII: To Change Oneself**

Harry was actually surprised by how fast his first month at Hogwarts flew by. Before he even knew it, September was over and October rolled around, bringing overcast skies and cold drizzles with it. This cheerlessness was mirrored by the classes too: the exciting introductory lessons were now over and rather tedious lectures took their place.

On the other hand, by now everyone got used to seeing Harry around, so he wasn't stared at because he was the Boy-Who-Lived or because he was the first Potter in a few generations to be sorted into Slytherin anymore. Even the Hogwarts rumor mill got tired of trying to guess how he got enrolled a whole year too soon – something that the green-eyed boy was quite happy about.

Still, he was younger and noticeably smaller than his classmates, and that continuously drew more attention to the young Potter than he was comfortable with. And, somehow, a foolish idea that he should take active steps to correct it. What's more, in his childish 'wisdom', Harry decided that the best way to do that would be to change himself. Magic could do great many things, so there should be a way to make him a little older too, right? Subtly and over a while, of course. After all, he had no desire to answer some very uncomfortable questions that he would, no doubt, be asked should he suddenly age a few years overnight.

But how could he accomplish this? – the green-eyed boy had no ideas. Not at this time. And, since he was quite sure that Magics like that weren't presently taught at Hogwarts, he wasn't even sure where to look for the knowledge he needed. Well, the library sounded like a good place to start, but... Harry didn't think that asking madam Pince about the books on permanent age-altering Magics directly would go well. No, to have a chance to find what he wanted, he needed to ask the librarian about the books on a more acceptable but still related subject.

It took him a bit of thinking, but eventually the young Potter came up with a reasonable and acceptable topic that he could use to cover the real objective of his research.

* * *

"Good afternoon." Harry greeted madam Pince, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Something I can help you with, young man?" The librarian asked as she tore her eyes from whatever book she was reading to look at the green-eyed wizard standing in front of her counter.

"Yes. Can I have some books on Magics that alter one's appearance, please?" The young Potter asked.

"And why would you need those?" Madam Pince inquired. After all, her job was more than just keeping the library in good order; she was also tasked with making sure that the knowledge contained in the books there was used for the right reasons. And, Magics that changed one's looks certainly were something that could be easily abused.

"I don't want to get mobbed next time I have to go to the Diagon Alley." Harry replied quite honestly while pointing towards the infamous scar on his forehead. Indeed, when he was trying to think up a good cover for his research into the way to age himself, he realized that he needed to learn the Glamour Charm or something similar if he ever wanted to have peaceful shopping in the magical world. "I can't have professor Flitwick hide _it_ with charms every time, can I?" The librarian eyed him critically for a little while, before letting out a small sigh.

"Very well." She said. "Go find yourself a worktable, young man; I'll bring you the books." Shrugging, the young Potter thanked the witch and did as she asked. Meanwhile, madam Pince disappeared behind the bookshelves as she went to collect the books on the subject of appearance-altering Magics. She returned a few minutes later, carrying a few books that she deemed appropriate for him to read. Thanking her for her help even if he had strong suspicions that he won't find what he wanted in these books, Harry opened the first one and started reading...

A couple of hours later he knew that his earlier suspicions were spot on: none of the books he had been given contained anything that dealt with age-altering Magics in any way. Still, Harry knew that every great journey starts with a single step, and, even if he didn't get what he wanted from these books, his visit to the library today wasn't a total loss of his time. Indeed, these books contained a few references to the other tomes, which were more likely to contain the knowledge he was seeking. And then there were several rather useful charms and potions that he could use to visit the Diagon Alley or some other magical districts without getting mobbed by the Boy-Who-Lived groupies.

And there was another important thing that he had learned from reading these books: if he wanted a permanent result, the potions were the easiest way to achieve it. Indeed, everlasting charms required a lot of magical power and were hard to pull off. So did self-transfiguration, which, in addition to that, was incredibly dangerous... Brewing potions, on the other hand, required only good ingredients and an ability to follow a recipe. Thus, Harry decided to concentrate on finding a potion that met his needs. Of course, he wouldn't be ignoring the other branches of Magic completely in his searches, but...

* * *

Even though the books he had been given by madam Pince didn't really contain much of interest to him, Harry still couldn't finish them before the afternoon was over and he needed to head to the Great Hall for some dinner. And since he had found the librarian witch watching him like a hawk to be a bit distracting, he decided that he'd rather research in his private room in the Slytherin dormitories, if it was possible. Thankfully for him, it was.

"I'd like to borrow these ones." The young Potter said as he placed a pair of potion books onto madam Pince's counter. These were the books that were most likely to contain the leads worth pursuing in quest to find an aging potion that met his 'requirements'.

"Are you sure, Mr. Potter?" The witch in charge of the library asked, a bit curious about his choice of the books to borrow. "It's rare for someone to take books about potions; most students would rather read the ones about charms." She clarified a moment later.

"Well,.." Harry began. "Charms are certainly quicker and easier to use, but... I can't use them outside of Hogwarts until I'm seventeen due to the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. Potions, on the other hand, are safe to brew and consume anytime as long as it doesn't breach the Statute of Wizarding Secrecy." He explained his 'official' reason for choosing the books on potions. Madam Pince was silent for a few long moment as her mind processed what she had just heard.

"I see..." She finally said with a small nod. After another moment of silence, she continued: "Do you know the rules you will have to follow when borrow a book from the Hogwarts library, young man?" Harry nodded in response. A glare directed at him, however, told the green-eyed boy that the librarian wanted a different answer from him. So, suppressing an annoyed sigh, he began reciting the rules from his memory as best as he could. That seemed to satisfy madam Pince, and once he finished, she finally let him take the books and even wished him good luck in his research. Harry, of course, thanked the witch for her kind words before leaving the library...

 **~/ *** \~**

It has been a week since Harry began looking for a way to make himself look a bit older. His success so far was very ...limited, but he wasn't discouraged by that. Yet. And, instead, continued his research as much as his free time allowed. Just now he had made a trip to the Hogwarts Library and, hopefully, the books he had borrowed this time actually had something useful on the aging potions in them...

Stopping in front of a bare stretch of a wall, the green-eyed Potter looked around and, once he confirmed that no students from other houses were following him, he said the password, causing the hidden door leading into the Slytherin common room open. Stepping inside, he was immediately assaulted by an excited chatter coming from the older students, especially from those in the third year: apparently the first Hogsmeade weekend was announced.

Of course, as a mere firstie he had no hopes of visiting the Britain's only all-wizarding village yet. But that certainly didn't mean that he couldn't get anything from there until two years into the future. Indeed, nothing said he couldn't ask an older student to buy him what he wanted. Well, it wouldn't be exactly cheap, yes, but no delivery services ever were if the regular tirades of uncle Vernon were to be believed. That, however, was a bit beside the point; the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend was an opportunity for him to obtain things normally not available at Hogwarts, and, now that Harry thought about it, he could use some of those and for more than just satisfying his own needs and wants...

* * *

"Uhm... Sorry, but... Can I have a minute of your time?" Harry asked nervously as he approached Ms. Farley. The seventh year prefect looked up from her textbook.

"Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Potter?" She asked as neutrally as she could even if she was far from pleased with being distracted from her schoolwork: being a prefect was a hard 'job', and the many duties that came with it left her with barely any free time. Hell, oftentimes she had to sacrifice her sleep in order to keep the quality of her homework essays up – and as a prefect she was supposed to be an exemplary student all around.

"Well... Yeah..." The green-eyed boy admitted. "Will you be going to Hogsmeade this next weekend?" He asked her. Gemma nodded slowly.

"Yes, as a prefect I'm tasked with ensuring that students conduct themselves properly while in the village." She stated. After a moment she continued: "You want something from there, don't you?" She asked, receiving a nod of confirmation from Harry a second later.

"If it's not a bother, I'd like some sweets – I've read somewhere that there is a great confectionery shop in Hogsmeade – some chocolates, perhaps? Just no the chocolate frogs." The young Potter requested, his words making Ms. Farley raise her eyebrow questioningly.

"Why's that?" She asked, unable to contain her curiosity: chocolate frogs have been among the most loved magical candies for many many years. The boy in front of her might be the only person to dislike them she'd ever heard of.

"Well..." He began bashfully. "They are charmed to move like real frogs and... I'd rather my food doesn't pretend it's alive."

"I see..." The seventh year prefect replied. "Well, I guess I can do that. How much do you want me to buy for you?" She asked then.

"A galleon worth?" Harry said a bit unsurely: a galleon worth of candies was _a lot_ of candies, after all. Then again, Hogsmeade weekends were rare and so his next chance to get anything from the village won't come for a long time. He might as well hoard a little... "I'll pay you back, of course, and I'll also throw – say – two three sickles over for your help." He promised.

"Alright." Gemma agreed to the deal. "Just don't forget about this." Harry nodded reassuringly. "Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Potter?" The prefect asked next.

"No, thank you." The green-eyed wizard replied.

 **~/ *** \~**

Over the following week Harry finally made some progress in his foolish quest to make himself appear a little older. Namely, he finally managed to get his hands on the recipes for three different aging potions. Alas, none of those met his requirements: their effects took place instantly and lasted only a short period of time, no more than twelve hours per dose. And what was even worse, he felt like madam Pince was getting really suspicious of him and would interrogate him about his real objectives should he continue borrowing potion books from the Library.

At least, he got a nice and, to be honest, much needed distraction from his research once the weekend arrived. Ms. Farley haven't forgotten their deal and brought him a whole galleon worth of candies from Hogsmeade. And now that he had his sweet hoard, the green-eyed boy decided that he should share some with the Carrow twins, as a payment for their advice. Even if they said that they had helped him out of the goodness of their hearts.

* * *

"Is there something you need, Potter?" Hestia asked as she and her sister saw Harry fidget as he tried to decide whether to approach them or not. This question seemed to snap him out of this, though it most certainly didn't take away his doubtfulness.

"Ah... Well... Yeah..." The green-eyed boy began bashfully. "I just... ah... wanted to thank you again for your advice back at the beginning of September, and... Here." He said while offering the twins a box of Honeydukes' chocolates. The girls glanced at each other.

"Didn't we say that you owe us nothing for that one, Potter?" Flora asked.

"Well, yeah." The young wizard admitted. "But it really helped me, so I simply have to thank you properly for it." And that wasn't a lie; following the twins' advice indeed had made his life in Slytherin much easier. The older students, even those who came from the families that had openly supported the Dark Lord during the Blood War, were noticeably more tolerant towards him now that he was earning the house many points through his exceptional classwork while also doing his absolute best to avoid standing out in a negative light.

"...Alright." Flora said after quite a pause. "We accept your gift." She said while taking a box of chocolates from her classmate's hands. She then examined it. "These are quite good; you have a good taste, Potter." She commented while her sister nodded in agreement.

"Ah... Thank you." Harry replied bashfully, deciding against telling the twins that he had no ideas what sort of candies they liked and so simply took a random box from his 'hoard'.

 **~/ *** \~**

Between his schoolwork and his little project – even if the latter was mostly on hold at the moment due to his fears of getting discovered and severely punished for doing what he wasn't supposed to – Harry didn't even notice the flow of time. Thus, it came to him as quite a surprise when he woke up one morning to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the castle's corridors all the way to the Slytherin dungeon. It was October 31 already. Halloween.

The castle itself too had changed overnight. It was now decorated with hundreds of carved pumpkins, some as big as a small car and all lit by everlasting candles, spooky wreaths and even live bats. Yet, unlike the other students, the young Potter didn't feel like celebrating. It just felt really _wrong_ to celebrate _anything_ on the day his parents died so that he could live...

Despite the great feast that would take place in the evening, the classes on this day were no different from those on any other day. Thus, Harry managed to weather them alright. But as the time for the aforementioned feast drew closer, he just... He just couldn't make himself attend the celebrations. And so he retreated to the far corner of the Slytherin common room and tried to shut the world around him away with one of the borrowed potion books he was yet to return to the library... Once the students began leaving for the Great Hall, however, his seclusion was noticed. And addressed.

"You aren't going to the feast?" The twins asked together as they approached him.

"No." Harry replied. "I don't wish to join the celebrations."

"But, why?" Hestia asked, bewildered by his words. "Samhain – and Halloween – is a holiday of an extreme importance and..." She then trailed off as the understanding of what this day meant to the young Potter dawned upon her: on this day, nine years ago, he had lost his parents. "I see..." She said after a long moment of silence. "I'm so sorry..." She was about to say something else, but a new arrival interrupter her.

"Is there a problem here?" Gemma Farley asked as she approached the group. Then she noticed that Potter was sitting there with a book, apparently not caring about the soon-to-begin feast at all. Hell, he wasn't even dressed for it, yet. The prefect immediately asked him about it. To her surprise, though, it was not the boy himself, but Hestia Carrow who gave her an answer:

"Potter does not wish to celebrate, not even Samhain, on the anniversary of his parents' deaths." There was a moment of silence before Ms. Farley spoke.

"I see..." She said to Hestia. Then she turned her attention to the young Potter. "I can relate to your indisposition to celebrate." She said. "Unfortunately for you, I'll have to force you to attend the feast." She then clarified: "Attendance of the Halloween feast is mandatory to all students who aren't confined to the hospital wing." There was a pause, before she added: "Your refusal to attend the feast will strongly cast you in a negative light, as well as cause some serious problems to Slytherin as a whole." Harry let out a deep, defeated sigh.

"Fine, I'll attend the feast." He replied, his voice making it clear that he was doing it against his will.

"Thank you." Gemma said. "And... I'm sorry for all this..." Harry waved his hand, telling the older witch that it was alright. Then, with another sigh, he set his book aside and rose from the armchair he had been occupying.

"Let me change into the robes, and I'll join you for the feast." And with those words he disappeared towards the boys' wing of dormitories.

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	8. Lucky Breakthrough

And the eighth chapter is finally here, enjoy!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **davycrockett100** , **Wyrtha** , **magitech** , **Slytherin Studios** , **The Richmaster** , **ALiveTodaytoWrite** , **Penny is wise** , **Shalifi** , **Ranmaleopard** , **alba** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **Mangahero18** , perhaps, perhaps...  
 **lordamnesia** , that's the Slytherin way.  
 **serialkeller** , Harry is just 10. He has every right to act like a moron every now an then. And, I don't really agree with you seeing Gemma like that. While you do have a point, she is acting in the interests of Slytherin as a whole. If someone is to be blamed from this, it's whoever wrote the in-story Hogwarts rules. Or, at least, the professors who will enforce it.  
 **iStyx** , and why would Harry be sticking to his guns? He grew up with the Dursleys, who most certainly don't approve of him being anything but weak and malleable... If he wants something that he is forbidden, he'd rather take it behind their backs, rather than argue to get them change their stance. Eventually, he'll grow more insistent, but that's not happening just yet. Also, thanks for noticing that mistake.

 *** AN**:  
Great thanks to **Remilia - The Scarlet Moon** and **greysongarr** for their help with the chapter.

Wow, it's been ages since I've updated this story... And I don't even have a good excuse for this, beyond my inspiration having fled me. Anyhow, I'm back now and, hopefully, I won't have you waiting for the next update for too long. No promises, though ;)

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text_

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon**  
 **Chapter VIII: Lucky Breakthrough**

Despite having no success in finding an aging potions that met his requirements Harry didn't give up and abandon his little idea of aging himself up yet. Instead, he chose to re-examine his approach. And, after a bit of thinking, he came to a conclusion that he indeed was doing the things wrongly: what he needed wasn't a potion that changed his age outright, but rather something that made him mature faster. And that, in his mind, sounded a lot closer to what some nutrient potion could do.

Speaking of which, he could probably use some normal nutrient potions as well. While the Dursleys never truly starved him, he wasn't allowed to eat as much as he wanted under their roof either. That left him quite scrawny and made him appear even smaller when compared to his classmates. Perhaps, a visit to the hospital wing was in order?

After running a number of diagnostic spells on him, Madam Pomfrey agreed with his own assessment of his leanness and prescribed the young Potter some basic nutrient potions for the next month. That, however was the only thing that Harry managed to get out of his visit to the hospital wing: his attempts to discreetly fish some information about the potions that could make him mature faster out of the Hogwarts' matron yielded him nothing.

And between this and Madam Pince's increased vigilance, the green-eyed wizard found himself kind of without options to continue his research right now. Well, he had heard rumors that the Ravenclaw tower had its own library, but even if those were true, he was under no delusions that he, a Slytherin, would be allowed to use it. So he didn't even try asking about that...

 **~/ *** \~**

On the second weekend of November the first quidditch match of the season took place, Slytherin versus Gryffindor. And despite having little interest in the magical sports, Harry still came to watch the game and cheer for the team. It was something he had to, if he wanted to remain in the good graces with the rest of his house.

The weather that day, however, was pretty awful: it was cold and windy, and the heavy lead-colored clouds covered the skies, spilling drizzle and sleet upon the lands. Even on the tribunes, with various charms to keep people comfortable, it was rather chilly. The players, Harry was sure, had it much worse. And, thus, his indisposition towards joining the quidditch team grew even stronger. There was no way in hell he would fly in such a weather to entertain others... Alas, given that Marcus Flint wanted him on the team, he might not have much choice. So, the green-eyed wizard silently prayed that the older Slytherin would forget about this by the next school year...

As for the match itself... Harry didn't find watching it to be particularly entertaining. At least, not enough to understand why so many were obsessed with the game. It could have been because the match was played between two teams of schoolchildren and not professionals, or it could be just him not comprehending the greatness of the most popular magical sport... Whatever the case might be, he still cheered with the rest of his housemates every time the Slytherin team scored a goal and booing whenever their opponents succeeded in their counterattack. It was what was expected of him, and he didn't disappoint, if only not to make his own life difficult.

And, well, that didn't make him enjoy the game any more...

 **~/ *** \~**

Another week passed, and Harry was still no closer to finding a way to continue his research. And that was frustrating him quite a lot. His need to keep it all a secret wasn't helping any.

Not really knowing how to cope with predicament, yet unwilling to give up, Harry started wandering through the castle during his free time, perhaps to take his mind off his problems, or, perhaps, hoping to accidentally run across some forgotten room with old tomes full of arcane knowledge.

One day the young Potter found himself walking rather aimlessly through the seventh floor. Which, of course seemed to have nothing that could help him in his quest to age himself up... What it did have, however, was a strange painting, one depicting some insane wizard trying – and failing miserably – to teach some trolls dance ballet. Watching the depiction of that mad man's failures made Harry feel a tiny little bit better: he wasn't the only one who just couldn't achieve what he wanted... Immediately, his thoughts shifted towards his need to find some recipe of a potion that could make him mature faster. He really wanted it, he thought as he started pacing in front of the painting. And while he'd rather it be a potion, he would take anything that would let him achieve his 'goal'.

Then, suddenly, he felt something happen behind him. And when he turned around, he saw a simple wooden door on the opposite wall; a door that he was sure hadn't been there a few minutes ago. His curiosity about what lay behind this mysterious disappearing door got better of him and he opened it, inquisitive about what he might find behind it.

The room he saw was quite small and three of its walls were hidden behind floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled with great many tomes of arcane knowledge, many of which look like they were at least a century old. Aside from those, this mysterious room also contained a secretaire with several more books, a stack of parchments and writing utensils on it; and a single comfortable chair garnished with brownish leathers... It was almost like this room had been designed as a perfect place for secret self-study.

Stepping into the room, the green-eyed wizard walked up to the nearest bookcase and ran his hand against the musty tomes as he read their titles. And, much to his surprise, they all appeared to be books about Potions. Most had titles too general to make a guess about what he might find inside, but a few all but screamed that they contained the recipes for aging potions, or potions that could make one mature faster... Harry couldn't help but wonder, whether this strange room had somehow read his mind in order to give exactly what he wanted.

Suddenly, his eyes caught a very unusual title: "Magical Aids for Stock Raising". What was such a book doing in this collection? His curiosity sparked, Harry picked the book and flipped through its musty pages, looking for an index or a table of contents. Surprisingly enough, despite its age, the book in his hands did have one. And, almost immediately, the young Potter saw why the room decided that this tome might be of interest to him: one of the potions listed in there was a special nourishment potions that tripled the speed at which cattle grew up... Were this potion designed for humans, it would have been exactly what Harry needed. But, alas...

Placing the tome back onto the bookshelf, the green-eyed wizard picked another one at random. Unfortunately, it had only instant-effect aging potions in it, as did the next three he tried. Then, Lady Luck decided to finally smile upon him, and the next tome contained an modified version of the cattle nourishment potion, the one that was meant to be used on humans... The note from the book's author stating that this particular potion had been developed by Spanish slavers did make the Potter heir pause for a few moments, but he quickly decided that it would be very stupid of him to ignore a potion that met his requirements nigh-perfectly simply because it had some disagreeable history.

What's more, as he read the recipe, he noted that the potion didn't need any rare ingredients. In fact, he was pretty sure that he had everything he needed in his Potions kit! Actually brewing this potion, however, might be a bit of a challenge: not only several steps had to be done in a very precise way, but he'll also have to do it all in a complete secrecy – something that was far from easy given how things rarely remained a secret for long at Hogwarts. And brewing the potion took a whole damn month.

Still, this was a potion that met his requirements, and having searched for it for weeks, Harry didn't feel like trying to find a better one. Plus, he noted idly, its long preparation time meant that by the time he had it ready, he'd finish taking the nutrient potion Madam Pomfrey prescribed him – not every potion played nice with the others, and he'd rather not take more risk than was ...absolutely necessary.

Thus, he went ahead and copied down the recipe, while also thanking the mysterious room for giving the books in his mind.

* * *

Now that he knew what to brew, Harry needed to find a place he could turn into his secret potions laboratory – some sort of a private location where no one would discover his 'work'. And he could think up only so many places that fit the bill... There, of course, was his room in the Slytherin dormitories, but he'd rather not sleep next to a cauldron full of simmering, potentially-volatile potion. Having an enchanted fire, held back only by some flimsy spell, next to his things also didn't inspire him. Thus, brewing in his dormitory room was out of question.

This left him with an option of using some abandoned classroom far away from Hogwarts' commonly-traveled passages. And so Harry spent the next few days wandering through the forgotten about parts of the castle, looking for a room that suited his needs the best. Eventually, he settled on turning an old Charms schoolroom that hasn't been used for at least a century into his private potions lab. There was much for him to do before he could start brewing, though.

First of all, he needed to clean up the layers of grim and dust that had accumulated in the room over the decades of disuse. Indeed, a clean workplace was all but a necessity for successful potion brewing. That, and he'd rather not sit in the dust... Still, given how dirty the old classroom was, tidying up even a single corner was not an easy task.

Then, he needed to secure this place: it would be quite disastrous for him if someone accidentally discovered his potion brewing. And while his knowledge of Magic was really limited, the young Potter was sure that a locking charm and a simple ward to subtly tell people go somewhere else would be enough to protect his new secret from those wandering aimlessly through the castle... In addition to that, he also needed to do something about the open flames he'll be using for potion brewing: he didn't want to burn Hogwarts down after all...

Finally, when all of the above was done, he'd have to smuggle his Potions ingredients and the spare cauldron from the Slytherin dormitories. And that was something easier said than done since there always were people in the common room and, while his housemates usually stayed out of his and each others' business, it was really doubtful that seeing him carrying out Potions equipment won't raise any questions with them.

 **~/ *** \~**

It took him a whole week to accomplish that, but the Potter heir managed to set up something resembling a proper Potions lab in the abandoned classroom he had... appropriated. And so, now it was the time to start brewing! Harry was really excited about this, perhaps even too much as his world seemed to shrink down just the workbench and the cauldron in front of him. He was about to add the first ingredient into the water when a sudden voice coming from behind made him freeze and almost gave him a heart attack:

"My, my, what do we have here?" Someone said in a rather poor imitation of professor McGonagall.

"Looks like some firstie decided to play a Potions master..." A second voice said. Turning his head around, Harry saw Fred and George Weasley standing in the doors of the classroom.

"And what might he be brewing?" The first twin asked then. "Is it for a prank of some kind? Or is our little Slytherin friend turning into the second Snape?" Deciding that it probably wouldn't be wise to antagonize Hogwarts' infamous pranksters, Harry decided to play along with the twins.

"Y-yeah." He agreed with them. "It's for a prank." Well, and from a certain point of view what he wanted to do might actually be seen as a one... Fred and George grinned, perhaps happy to see that someone else decided to join the ranks of pranksters. Or, perhaps, they just wanted an 'apprentice', whom they could use to deliver their pranks to the Slytherin dormitories?

"And what this prank might be, eh, Harrikins?" The first twin asked then, sounding genuinely curious now. Harry, however, wasn't about to reveal his plans to them.

"That's a secret." He told the Gryffindor pranksters.

"Now, don't be like that. You can tell us what you have in mind; we promise we will keep it a secret from your would-be victims." The second twin said. The young Potter shook his head.

"Nope, not telling." Fred and George certainly didn't look happy about him keeping his mouth shut, but decided against prodding any further... Harry, meanwhile, had some questions of his own to ask. "And how did you two find me here anyway?"

"We've seen you come here a lot, so we decided to see what you're doing here ourselves, Harrikins."

"H-how?" The green-eyed wizard blurted out: anytime he came to this classroom, he made sure he wasn't followed. Was he not vigilant enough? Or did the most notorious pranksters of Hogwarts have some secret way to track the people within the castle? "How did you know I come here a lot? I was sure no one is following me!"

"That's a trade secret." The twin number two replied conspiratorially, implying that they might actually have some way to know where exactly everyone was.

"And can someone else track me the same way?" Harry asked, silently praying for a negative answer. And, it looked like Fates decided to answer his prayer:

"Not that we know of." The second twin replied. After a few moments he added: "Though, sometimes we think that Dumbledore knows about everything that happens within Hogwarts." The younger wizard wasn't sure whether he should be relieved or worried about this. On one hand, it looked like he was safe form being discovered by the professors: they likely had no way of knowing where he went unless they actually followed him, and Harry always made sure that he wasn't followed when he came here.

On the other hand, though... Harry really hoped that the headmaster didn't spy on him and that he wasn't already aware of his little Potions project. Which, thankfully, seemed to be the case since the man hadn't stepped in to stop him yet. Still, if the twins were right and Dumbledore had a way of knowing what was happening in his school regardless of how well one might try to hide their activities, the Potter heir sure hoped that the man refrained from using that ability of his... unless the students were in some great danger, of course.

In the end, Harry decided that whether Dumbledore had such power over the school or not, he was just too busy with his jobs to actually use it more often than once in a blue moon. And even if that wasn't the case and the man regularly checked who was doing what in Hogwarts, other four hundreds students – some of whom were less than perfectly obedient – should be enough to mask his secret Potion brewing, unless he blew the classroom up or did something similarly cover-blowing to draw attention to himself.

"That's a relief." Harry said finally. The twins shrugged in response, before making one more attempt to make him spill the beans about his upcoming 'prank'.

"Are you sure you don't want to tell us what prank you're brewing the potion for, Harrikins?" The one prankster on the right asked. "We might even help you with it. Merlin knows, Hogwarts needs more fun stuff happening within her walls." The young Potter shook his head.

"Nope, not telling." He replied. The twins sighed in disappointment.

"Oh well, have it your way." The one on the left said. "At least tell us when you're going to pull it off. We don't want to miss the show that needs such a mysterious potion."

"Alright." Harry agreed, hoping that the Gryffindor pranksters will forget about this 'promise' of his soon enough. "It won't be soon, though. This potion takes awhile to brew." The twins shrugged, apparently not bothered by the long wait.

"No problem, just don't forget to tell us, okay, Harrikins?" Harry nodded and, thankfully for him, Fred and George decided to let him have his peace and left...

Once the door closed behind them, the Potter heir shook his head as he turned his attention back to the cauldron in front of him. It was the time to start brewing!.. And brew he did. Adding an ounce of chopped toad liver and exactly seven Lady's Mantle flowers into the boiling water, Harry stirred his potion three times counterclockwise, smiling when it turned thinly-greenish, just like the recipe said it should.

 **~/ *** \~**

Even though it was now the very end of November, weather in Devon was still pretty nice, and so one Draco Malfoy was enjoying a game of quidditch with his ...friends, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, in the backyard of his family's manor. Of course, it wasn't a real game as there were only three of them there, but that mattered not to the blond boy. After all, why would something so insignificant matter when his father promised to watch the 'game'?

Unfortunately for Draco, his father wasn't paying much attention to the kids playing in the manor's backyard. The thoughts of the Lord Malfoy instead were occupied by entirely different matters: Lucius was contemplating the list of the guests for the Yule party that he will be hosting this year. Or, to be more precise, he was trying to decide, whether inviting one Mr. Potter to it would be a good idea or not.

On one hand, having the Boy-Who-Lived as a guest at the party would greatly boost the standing of the house Malfoy. And the boy was in the same age group as his own son; if the two somehow made friends, all the better! On the other hand, though, the rumors said Mr. Potter was raised by muggles. And, if that was true, he knew not how to dress for and how to behave in the high society. Any embarrassing mistakes he makes would reflect poorly not just on himself, but on the hosts – the Malfoys – as well. And Lucius certainly didn't want his reputation and that of his house suffer because he invited a child with no manners to the party.

Furthermore, while his sorting into the noble house of Slytherin did show that Mr. Potter was, in fact, not a mouthpiece of the old fool Dumbledore, a number of the Dark Lord's followers still saw the boy as ...well, not an enemy, perhaps, but as someone to be scorned. Personally, Lucius didn't agree much with them, though: while having those of the pure and noble magical blood rule the world was an admirable goal, he liked his current life more than the times when he served Lord Voldemort...

After some more thinking, the Lord Malfoy decided that the potential gains from having the Boy-Who-Lived as a guest at his Yule party outweighed what he could lose should things go wrong. His decision made, the blond man ordered his house elf to bring him an invitation card and a quill. And while the little creature was away, Lucius tried to decide on whom he should ask to deliver the invitation to Mr. Potter – he didn't want to just owl it... Perhaps, he could ask young Mr. Flint to do that, hmm?

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	9. To Party or not to Party

And the ninth chapter is finally here, enjoy!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **magitech** , **Ranmaleopard** , **davycrockett100** , **Penny is wise** , **JPElles** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **Wyrtha** , well, this chapter should answer your questions regarding Harry going to the Malfoy's party.  
 **The Richmaster** , since it's not an aging potion that ages him up more-or-less instantly, people that see him every day won't notice anything different about him for the present. Once he returns from the summer break, though...

 *** AN**:  
Great thanks to **Remilia - The Scarlet Moon** and **greysongarr** for their help with the chapter.

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text_

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon**  
 **Chapter** **IX: To Party or not to Party**

A week passed since Harry began brewing his potion, and so far it was progressing nicely. At the very least, he hadn't screwed it up badly enough to necessitate scrapping this attempt and making a new one... Right now, though, the Potter heir wasn't in his 'laboratory', bent over the cauldron of simmering brew; no, he was sitting quietly in the far corner of the Slytherin common room, writing an essay for his next Transfiguration class.

"Potter!" A gruff voice called, pulling the young wizard out of his thoughts. Looking up from his essay, Harry saw Marcus Flint standing in front of him. And the older Slytherin didn't come empty-handed: he was holding a rather fancy envelope. And while the green-eyed Slytherin was pretty sure that he was the addressee of that letter – he could see no other reasons for Mr. Flint to approach him now – he couldn't be sure about it. So he inquired:

"Yes?"

"Here, Potter." The older boy said, while handing over the letter. "Lord Malfoy invites you to the Yule party he's hosting this year." This was certainly not what Harry was expecting: an invitation to some apparently-private party from someone he had never met. Marcus, however, paid no attention to his surprise and kept talking: "Whether you decide to accept this invitation or not, I strongly recommend you write your response in the most polite way possible; Lord Malfoy is not someone you want as your enemy, Potter, so don't turn him into one by being an unrefined hick." Immediately after giving this piece of advice, Mr. Flint turned around and walked away.

Letting out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, Harry looked down at the invitation letter in his hands. He had never been to a party before. Hell, the Dursleys made sure he has never been invited to one, before. Yet, having seen how eager his cousin was to go to one, the young wizard was pretty sure that parties were cool... Still, this was not a normal party he was invited to; it was hosted by a lord. And while he knew next to nothing about how the nobility lived and celebrated holidays, Harry understood that their parties were supposed to be special, with certain rules everyone had to follow and such. And he did not know these rules.

He wasn't going to ask Mr. Flint about them, though: while the older boy wasn't unfriendly nowadays, the Potter heir was still afraid of him somewhat, the events of the first week of the school year still fresh in his mind. Instead, the young wizard looked over the Slytherin common room, trying to spot the people he was actually friendly with.

Unfortunately for him, he couldn't see anyone but Ms. Farley, and, while his relationship with the female prefect was quite cordial, Harry was pretty sure that the seventh year prefect had more important things to do than explaining him the etiquette of the magical high society. But, he was too excited about this invitation to wait for someone else who could enlighten him to show up. Thus, he approached the older girl.

"Um... Sorry..." The green-eyed wizard began, not sure how to breach the subject. Indeed, while he had asked Gemma for advice a few time over the past months, those were all about schooling or the school life in general. This time, however, he was going to ask her for advice about something that had nothing to do with Hogwarts.

"Something I can do for you?" The Slytherin prefect asked, looking up from her textbook.

"Well..." Harry began. "I've just gotten an invitation to a party and... well, I don't know anything about what I should do there and..." Perhaps, due to being both excited and nervous, he found himself having troubles explaining his problem. "Well,.. Here..." He finally gave up and showed the invitation to the older witch. Sighing, Gemma took the letter from him from him and scanned it with her eyes.

"Oh my!" She exclaimed in a small surprise as she saw just who sent this invitation. She also felt a prick of jealousy as her family was not important enough in the magical world to be invited to such parties. Suppressing that feeling, she looked back at Mr. Potter, who waiting for her to say something impatiently. "Well..." She began too unsure about the best way to deal with the sudden situation she found herself in. "I take it, you don't know much about how the high society operates?" She asked. Harry nodded in response. "I guess I can try giving you some basic etiquette lesson – every Slytherin must know what to say and how to behave when dealing with the important people of our world – but that would be the most I can do in the time you have." Indeed, having being raised by muggles, Harry has missed years worth of knowledge about the ways of magical world; fixing that properly would require way more than two weeks he had before the party.

"T-thank you." The green-eyed wizard said. "I'll try to get you something nice to pay you back for your help. What would you like?" His words made Gemma smile a little: unlike many other 'snakes', he always did his best to make his deals square.

"I'll trust your choice." The older Slytherin replied. There was a small pause before she continued: "Still, I'm a bit surprised that you got an invitation. These parties are organized by adults and for adults; children can be found there only if their parents were invited." After a moment she added: "I guess, that's because you're the 'Boy Who Lived'." This made Harry scowl: he didn't like his moniker. That didn't go unnoticed by Ms. Farley. "Sorry, I know you hate being called that – you made it quite clear on the Halloween – Harry, but that's how many in the wizarding world see you. And lord Malfoy is almost certainly one of those people."

"He does?" The Potter heir asked.

"Most likely." Gemma confirmed. "He probably invited you so that he could flaunt the political power of his house and boost its reputation." This certainly didn't make Harry happy: no one liked being used like that. And, once again, the older witch had no problem reading his emotions. "Well..." She began after a moment of silence: "That's how the things always are in the high society; people will always use every opportunity to make themselves and their houses look better and more important. Doesn't mean you can't have fun at the parties, though."

"Alright." Harry nodded.

"Anyway, right now I'd rather finish my homework... We can start your etiquette lessons after the dinner." The Potter heir nodded again:

"Sounds like a plan." He agreed. "Thank you."

 **~/ *** \~**

"Potter." Professor Snape said as walked up to Harry during the breakfast the next morning. "The headmaster wished to see to. Do you have any idea why?" The question caused Harry to stiffen with fear – was his little potion brewing discovered? – but, after a few long moments, he retook control of his emotions.

"I don't know, sir." He replied finally, trying to sound as honest as he possibly could. His head of house eyed him, clearly not believing that he was telling the truth. After a few tense seconds, though, the Potions Master gave up.

"Very well." The man said. "I shall escort you to the headmaster's office after breakfast." And with that the head of Slytherin turned and began walking back to the professors' table. Once he was sufficiently far away, the Potter heir found himself bombarded with questions; many of his housemates wanted to know what was going on and why the headmaster – a man who almost never interacted with the students who weren't either prefects, headboy or headgirl – wanted to see him. Unfortunately for them, Harry gave them the same answer he gave the Potions Master: he had no idea why professor Dumbledore wanted to see him.

* * *

After the breakfast, Professor Snape escorted Harry to the headmaster's office, just like he said he would. It was a silent walk: not a word was said until they reached a large and extremely ugly stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to the headmaster's tower.

"Melon Sorbet." The head of the Slytherin house said. Apparently, this was a password of sorts as the gargoyle suddenly sprang to life and hopped aside while the wall behind it split in two. And even though he was quite scared of what might be coming, the green-eyed wizard couldn't help but be amazed by what lay behind the newly-formed arch: a marble spiral staircase moving smoothly upward, like an escalator.

And as soon as Harry and professor Snape stepped onto it and began ascending towards the headmaster's office, the wall behind them suddenly closed up with a rather loud thud, almost making the young Potter jump out of his skin. Damn! Why was a visit to the Headmaster's office such a scary thing?.. Shaking his head, the green-eyed wizard tried his best to calm down: he was well-aware that being scared out of his mind wouldn't help him any with whatever awaited him in the headmaster's office.

At long last, they stood in front of a gleaming oak door with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin. Professor Snape was about to reach for it, when a voice from inside the office called:

"Come in, Harry, Severus." And then the door opened by itself.

Curious about the place the headmaster lived in, Harry looked around. And he immediately decided that this place was more interesting than the potions laboratory his head of the house conducted his business from.

It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of many little noises. A number of arcane silvery instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, some which were sleeping while others were looking at the visitors with mild curiosity. Then, there was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, behind which professor Dumbledore sat, and, sitting on a shelf behind it there was the Sorting Hat, as shabby and tattered as it was during the sorting back on September the first.

"Thank you, Severus." The elderly warlock said. The Potion Master nodded curtly and, turning around, left the office, leaving Harry alone with the headmaster. "Now, Harry, my boy, I'm sure you're wondering why I've invited you here." Dumbledore said.

"Y-Yes, sir." The green-eyed wizard replied while swallowing hard as he tried to keep his nervousness in check.

"Well, I've heard that you've received an invitation to a Yule party from Lucius Malfoy." The aged wizard said, catching Harry completely by surprise: he never even thought that something like this might be the reason the headmaster summoned him. "Have you decided, whether you want to attend it?" It was a few moments before the young Potter snapped out his stupor and gave an answer.

"Y-Yes, sir. I'd like to go t-there." He said.

"Then, I'm afraid, I'll have to upset you, Harry. I can't let you attend this party."

"W-What?" The green-eyed wizard blurted out without thinking, once again caught completely flat-footed by what the aged warlock in front of him said... After a few moments, he recovered enough to at least try and correct himself: "Sorry, sir, b-but..." Harry wanted to say that he – Dumbledore – had no right to do something like that, but for some reason the words just didn't want form... That turned out to be not a big problem as the headmaster somehow knew what he wanted to say.

"Normally, you'd be right, Harry." Dumbledore began. "As a headmaster I have no authority over them outside of school-related matters. Your situation, however, is a little bit different. You have no legal guardian in a magical world and I, as the headmaster of your school, act in loco parentis during the school year. And, because of that, I can forbid you attending that party." Here, he made a small pause before continuing: "But, please, understand that I'm actually doing this for your own good, Harry, my boy." This was followed by another, longer period of silence.

"Assuming I believe this..." The Potter heir began. "Why are you forbidding me to attending the party, sir?" He asked. Dumbledore leaned forward over his table, his bespectacled blue eyes suddenly losing their mirthful twinkling.

"Harry, my boy, I'm doing this to protect you." The aged warlock said. "This party is organized by a man who supported Voldemort during the Blood War. And, no doubt, other supporters of the Dark Lord will be there too. Do you really think it is wise for you to be there as well?" Now that the situation was presented like this, the green-eyed wizard couldn't help but agree that attending that party might not be the wisest thing after all. Dumbledore however wasn't done yet. "And even if all those men had indeed moved on and hold no grudge towards you, they all still are ruthless politicians who will not hesitate to hurt and exploit others if they will profit from it. And you, Harry, are most definitely not ready to deal with people like that. Do you really think that a single night of fun is worth losing everything you have, everything that your parents left you?"

The younger wizard remained silent. The arguments for banning him from going to the party the headmaster presented sounded convincing. And given what he has already been told about the elites of the magical world, the man's worries were not baseless... Still, Harry was very much annoyed that he was once again denied a chance to do things he wanted...

Dumbledore meanwhile just sat behind his table, patiently waiting for his young ward to give him an answer. It was creeping the green-eyed wizard out. And the only way out he could see was agreeing to the headmaster's demand.

"Very well." Harry conceded, his voice, though, making it clear that he didn't like this one bit. "I shall inform lord Malfoy that I will not be attending the Yule party." Dumbledore nodded.

"Thank you, my boy." The aged warlock said.

"Will this be all, sir?" The Potter heir pressed, his voice carrying his desire to leave quite clearly.

"Yes, this would be all, Harry." The headmaster replied with a nod. "But if there anything bothering you, remember, my doors are always open for you." Harry nodded indifferently as he made his way towards the office's doors. He was heading straight to the library as he needed to find out whether the headmaster indeed had the power over him he claimed to have... Just a moment before he closed the office's door behind him, he heard the man say quietly: "I hope that one day you will see that everything I do is for your own good, Harry." And if Dumbledore said that to win him over, it didn't work.

 **~/ *** \~**

"You were sending your response to lord Malfoy?" Marcus Flint asked as he ran into Harry next to the owlry later that day. The Potter heir nodded in response. "Good." The Slytherin chaser said. "It'd be interesting to see what you are like away from Hogwarts, Potter."

"Unfortunately, I will not be attending the party." Harry said, greatly surprising the older boy.

"What? Why?" He asked.

"The headmaster forbade me to attend the party." The green-eyed wizard replied, surprising Mr. Flint once more.

"B-But... The headmaster can't tell you what you outside of Hogwarts! You can't even have detentions during the breaks!" Harry nodded.

"Normally, you'd be correct." He said. "But since I'm an orphan, the headmaster acts as my guardian from September the first to whenever the school year ends. And during this time he does, in fact, have the power to stop me from doing what he thinks I shouldn't be doing." He explained. "I too didn't believe this when Dumbledore told me this, but... that's how the things are, and the school's charter confirms this." Marcus let out a small sigh.

"That's... unfair, Potter." He said. Harry just nodded in response, not really feeling like giving a reply any more verbose. That was alright, though, as the older wizard wasn't looking for a continuation to their 'conversation' either. And so the two of them went about their separate businesses... Well, the young Potter had no 'business' to attend to right now, so he made his way back to the Slytherin dormitories instead.

And as he walked the Hogwarts corridors he thought that, even if the headmaster denied him the chance to go that party, he should continue his etiquette lessons with Gemma. There was no doubt that he'd find that knowledge useful in many other situations. Yeah, he would definitely continue those lessons.

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	10. Holiday Time

And the tenth chapter is finally here, enjoy!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **kazikamikaze24** , sorry, man, not happening.  
 **ViktornovaMk2** , **The Sinful** , **Scarlett Woman** , **SleepiPanda** , **Ranmaleopard** , **JPElles** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **TheBlackCatSwordsman** , **magitech** , **Kingdark** , Harry did include the reasons, though the chapter isn't describing much of what Lucius does in response to that. Nor do I have any plans for him confronting Dumbledore about this yet. 

*** AN**:  
Great thanks to **Remilia - The Scarlet Moon** and **greysongarr** for their help with the chapter.

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text_

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon**  
 **Chapter X: Holiday Time**

Lucius Malfoy let out an uncharacteristic sigh as he looked up from an old journal he was studying. Apparently, the Hogwarts charter indeed granted the acting headmaster quite a lot of power over the lives of the students who had no magical guardians. And Dumbledore certainly was a man who would go out of his way to keep the Boy-Who-Lived as far away from those who followed the Dark Lord as he possibly could... Perhaps, the lord Malfoy thought, Harry Potter was completely honest about the reason why he won't be able to attend the Yule party.

That certainly was a point in Mr. Potter's favor. Too bad, his good opinion of the boy did little to help dealing with the problems the rejected invitation created: somehow – here Lucius suspected his own son's big mouth – the information that he was inviting the Boy-Who-Lived to the Yule party got leaked, and now a good number of people assumed that the boy _will_ be there. And, of course, these people will be much displeased when the reality doesn't match their expectations...

And while letting the boy take the fall would be an easy way out of this situation, Lucius didn't believe that this was how he should proceed. It was just not right. Plus, while placating all these people might not be all that easy, he was quite willing to do that as shielding Mr. Potter from the fallout of this whole mess would make quite a good foundation for a future consociation between them. A consociation that Lucius really would like to establish.

Now, if only there was an easy way to placate all those people who will be majorly disappointed when the Boy-Who-Lived doesn't show up at the Yule party he's hosting...

 **~/ *** \~**

It took Harry a few days to realize it, but the headmaster forbidding him to attend the Malfoy's party was actually a good thing. Indeed, with how excited he had been about receiving an invitation, he had completely forgotten about the potion he was brewing in his secret 'lab'. Or, to be more precise, it was the fact that he needed to perform certain crucial steps in brewing it on the day of the party that slipped from his mind. Of course, that didn't mean he suddenly wasn't angry at Dumbledore anymore, but...

Anyhow, now that he got his mind back on track, the green-eyed youth concentrated on making sure he doesn't screw up and ruin his brew. And on getting good marks on the upcoming end-of-semester tests too, of course. He, after all, greatly enjoyed the peace that came with being an exemplary student in Slytherin, and didn't want to lose it.

The next few days flew by without anything notable happening at Hogwarts. Even the Weasley twins seemed to have cut back on playing pranks on the castle's inhabitants. Then, on the Friday of the penultimate week of the semester, some excitement was brought into Harry's life: when he was leaving the Great Hall after his lunch, he was approached by one of his Ravenclaw classmates, Marietta Edgecomb. The brown-haired witch practically shoved a folded piece of parchment into his hands, before beating a hasty retreat back to the 'Claw table.

Letting out a small sigh, the Potter heir let his curiosity get better of him and, stepping into a small alcove next to the entrance into the Great Hall, opened the note. It turned out to be a formally-written message from some older students. And while it was signed, Harry had never come across those names before, so he had about zero idea who these upperclassmen were... Anyway, this message was an invitation to a study group that the older 'Claws ran for they housemates as well as for some picked out students from other houses.

This 'Ravenclaw Study Group' was quite well known throughout the school and much coveted by the student body. Being invited into it was considered an honor... And, to his best knowledge, he was the first Slytherin in his year to get an invitation. Also, while he might never know exactly why he was chosen, Harry certainly wanted to think that it was him being always polite and respectful to others was paying off big time...

Anyhow, there study group held a meeting that day and, since he had no other plans for the evening, the green-eyed wizard decided that he might as well go there and see just what this all was about.

* * *

As it turned out, the much-coveted Ravenclaw Study Group wasn't all that different from the normal ones. The biggest difference probably was the presence of the older students, who mentored their underclassmen in whatever subjects they were having difficulties. This study group also had an organized schedule for the meetings and a nice room with a small library of textbooks and reference literature that covered all seven years of Hogwarts curriculum.

Still, not being outlandishly-different didn't mean that this group wasn't any good. Because it was great! Even though he attended only a single meeting so far, Harry already knew that this was the best study group ever and that he would be quite sad, should his privilege of attending it be revoked. Indeed, despite being an good student who got mostly Os these days, he still learned more than a few things from listening to his seniors explaining stuff.

More interesting than the Ravenclaw Study Group itself, however, was the reaction of Harry's housemates to him being invited there – How did they all know about that anyway? He hasn't told anyone about it, nor has he shown anyone the invitation – all of them, even the people he wasn't exactly on the good terms with, congratulated him on earning this distinction and honor. Even professor Snape, who generally kept his distance from him, told him how proud of him he was.

What the scion of the house Potter wasn't aware of, however, was the fact that this all caused his already non-dismissible reputation among his housemates grow even more. To the point where he was, without knowing it, well on his way to becoming the unofficial leader of his year. Or maybe even more than just that, seeing as even some of the older 'Snakes' were looking up to him a bit.

 **~/ *** \~**

Even though the castle had been decorated for awhile now, it was only after the end-of-semester tests were over that the Christmas spirit finally took a firm hold over the student body. And, unfortunately for Harry, it meant that pretty much everyone was now discussing their plans for holidays and how they were going to celebrate Christmas with their families: he was quite used to being without a (real) family – the Dursleys were _relatives_ and nothing more to him – but it still hurt a little...

Still, this was going to be his first Christmas without the Dursleys in the way, and Harry would be damned if he didn't enjoy the celebrations as much as he could. And that, most definitely, included exchanging gifts. Of course, finding good presents while stuck inside Hogwarts was not easy for the Potter scion, especially when he still couldn't claim that he knew his ...friends really well, but sending them even token gifts like Honeydukes' chocolates and some postcards he had made himself still made him feel good.

And when, on the Boxing Day morning he discovered quite a few gifts (also token ones) addressed to him under the Christmas tree in the Slytherin common room, Harry was over the moon. These were the first proper gifts he had ever received – or, at least, remembered receiving – and, despite being nothing special, they still made him feel like he was the happiest person in the entire world!

 **~/ *** \~**

It was early evening of December 26th when Harry made his way into his secret 'laboratory' to check on the potion he had been brewing for the past month. It was done, at last. And, if his senses weren't lying, he managed to brew it satisfactorily. Not perfectly as the color was a little off, and the fumes didn't swirl exactly like the recipe said they should, but it was close enough to call this attempt a success. Which was a great relief to the green-eyed wizard as he greatly doubted he would be able to pull off a second project like this without being found...

Setting the thoughts on how lucky he was to never get caught aside, Harry took the cauldron off the fire and poured its contents into a large bottle he had prepared earlier. The maturation-accelerating potion had a shelf life of over a year, so, unless something happened to this bottle, he won't have to worry about brewing it ever again.

Once all of the potion was emptied into the bottle, Harry poured off about a spoon-worth of it into a cup he fetched for today. It was the time to test his brew... And, the young wizard would be totally lying if he said that he wasn't quite scared at that moment: there were just so many things that could go wrong despite the potion appearing to be safe and brewed correctly. But nothing at all would happen if he just continued sitting there, eyeing the potion apprehensively, so Harry picked the cup up and brought it to his lips.

"Cheers." He said to himself, before gulping his brew down. And, well, while it certainly didn't taste great, it wasn't disgustingly-vile either. It also didn't make him keel over right away; his head didn't suddenly explode in unbearable pain and his skin didn't turn green or anything like that. In fact, the aftertaste in his mouth aside, Harry didn't feel any different now that he did a minute ago... Which, probably, was a good thing. This potion wasn't supposed to have any immediately-noticeable effects after all; it merely accelerated the rate at which one's body matured.

After waiting for another half an hour or so, just in case something unexpected did happen to him because of the potion, Harry decided that it was the time for him to head back to the Slytherin common room. And, thus, the green-eyed Potter began his journey back to the dungeons, the bottle of his precious potion in his hands...

The castle was so empty with the absolute majority of its usual inhabitants celebrating the holidays at home – even Mr. Filch wasn't stalking the corridors as much as usual – that the young wizard found himself paying a bit less attention to where he was going than he normally did. And this almost cost him his brew when he practically ran into not-exactly-sober professor Babbling near the entrance into the Slytherin dungeons.

"Mr. Potter?" The female professor asked, a note of surprise clear in her voice. There was a bit of a pause, before she continued: "What are you doing here? And what's that?" She asked while nodding towards the bottle in Harry's hands.

"A-ahm!.." The green-eyed boy 'replied' as he did his best to collect his thoughts. "I was... ah... doing some self-study for Potions... You know how professor Snape is, always expecting the perfection..." He tried to make up a plausible excuse as to why he was out there with a bottle full of a potion most people probably didn't even know existed. Professor Babbling eyed him for a few drawn out seconds, long enough to make him really scared that she saw right through his lie, before shrugging.

"You should've used one of the laboratories in the dungeons." She pointed out. Then, without waiting for him to say anything in response, she headed up the Grand Staircase, leaving quite a mixed up Harry behind. Shaking his head, the Potter scion resumed his journey while deciding not to dwell too much on what has just happened.

Still, he couldn't help but think that he should be a bit more aware of his surroundings. And, should he do more 'secret projects' in the future – which, actually, was not unlikely – he would also need a way to check whether there was someone behind a door or a corner. After all, it would be really bad if he lost hours upon hours of his hard work just because he crashed into Filch right at the doors of his 'secret laboratory'.

 **~/ *** \~**

The next morning Harry found himself in the Hogwarts library, browsing through the many magical tomes there in searches for some useful detection spells. Thankfully for him, such spells weren't some sort of a forbidden topic and he needn't sneak into the Restricted Section to find books describing various methods of magical detection.

Alas, most of those methods were a bit too complicated for him right now... Most but not all. The basic detection ward and the _**Homenum Revelio**_ charm looked to be simple enough that even a first year could master them after just a couple of days of practice. They also appeared to be useful in about every situation that the Potter heir could think of. Thus, he saw no reason not to try them out. And if they turned out to be not what he needed, well, he could always come back to the library and pick something else...

Anyway, having copied down what he needed from the books, Harry retreated to his 'laboratory' to practice these new pieces of magic in peace. And he decided to experiment with the detection ward first as it was a bit more complex and couldn't be used without marking the boundaries one wanted to monitor with (thankfully very simple) runic arrays.

It took him a few hours of trial and error, but eventually Harry got the ward to work, somewhat. At least, it now reacted to him crossing the boundary most of the time... Deciding to call this a success, the young Potter switched to experimenting with the human detection charm: its incantation was kind of tricky, but it didn't require any complex wand movements learning it wasn't especially hard. And after spending maybe ten minutes, memorizing the incantation, Harry decided that it was the time to try casting the spell:

" _ **Homenum Revelio**_!" He intoned, waving his wand in the general direction he wanted to 'scan'. Surprisingly enough, the spell told him that there was someone close by. Which was quite strange given how there were pretty much no students in the castle right now and the professors (and Filch) usually didn't patrol this corridor. Plus, Harry couldn't hear anyone out there... Perhaps he made some sort of mistake that caused the spell to give a false-positive result? " _ **Homenum Revelio**_!" He tried again, this time getting the result he was expecting: he was alone in this part of Hogwarts.

And now that the spell was working like he expected it to, Harry decided that it was the time to test it in the situation where there actually was someone to detect. And for that he'd need some help... Perhaps, it was the time he made friends with the his upperclassman?

* * *

Peter Pettigrew, disguised as Scabbers the rat, was now hiding in a dark corner, doing his best to recover from a heart attack he had moments ago when he was suddenly hit by a human-detection spell. Was his disguise somehow compromised? He certainly hoped it wasn't so as he'd rather not leave the comfortable life he enjoyed as Weasleys' pet rat behind...

It looked like Lady Luck was on his side tonight, though: whoever cast that spell apparently wasn't expecting to discover him and thought that the results he got were a mistake... Peter let out a sigh of a relief. He wasn't in danger of being discovered. Not right now, at least. Still, perhaps he should be more careful from now on and stop wander around as much. After all, were the person who cast that spell a trained wizard and not some wet-behind-ears youth, he'd be in great trouble.

With that thought in mind, Peter began his journey back to the Gryffindor tower, cautiously navigating through the corridors as he did his best to remain unseen and unnoticed by the castle inhabitants.

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	11. The Meeting

And here is the eleventh chapter!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **The Richmaster** , **JPElles** , **geetac** , **Ranmaleopard** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **The Sinful** , you bet.  
 **magitech** , now that's an interesting observation! Indeed, it seems that pretty much no one brings a pet to Hogwarts. There should've been way more cats in the castle than just Mrs. Norris and (later) Crookshanks. And then, let me remind you, owls hunt vermin too. Pettigrew as rat should've become something's meal a long time ago. Unless the animals can somehow tell that he's a transformed human and do their best to avoid him...  
 **Wyrtha** , the potion has worked, but its effects will take quite a bit of time to become truly noticeable.  
 **Guest** , perhaps, perhaps... But professor Babbling is fine as is. As for Pettigrew,.. He'll live, for now.  
 **LordGhostStriker** , no it won't be anything close to that, but Harry will still overshoot his intended age-up.

 *** AN**:  
Damn it, my inspiration has once again abandoned me... And, thus, this pitiful chapter is is all that I've managed to write for now. Thankfully, I'm nearly done with Harry's first year and, thus, it's almost the time for the interesting stuff. So, hopefully, I will have an easier time writing the next chapters...

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text_

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon**  
 **Chapter X** **I: The Meeting**

Before Harry knew it, the holidays were over and his second semester at Hogwarts began, bringing back the routine of attending classes and doing homework with it. And... That was about it. Nothing truly exciting was happening within the castle. Which was probably a good thing as the young Potter certainly had no desire to find out what sort of disaster could happen in a magical castle full of ancient mysteries and surrounded by a forest inhabited by unimaginable beasts.

As for the secretly-brewed maturation potion Harry was now taking, well... On one hand, neither the students nor the professors noticed anything out of ordinary about him. On the other hand, though, he himself couldn't see any effects the potion was supposed to have on him. It was almost like his brew wasn't doing anything at all. That wasn't the thought the Potter heir liked, especially since he had no ways of confirming or disproving it at this time without alerting the Hogwarts staff to the fact that he has secretly brewed and was now taking in a potentially-dangerous potion. Thus, all that was left for him to do was to wait and hope that he hadn't screwed up anywhere and it was just the potion being more subtle in the ways it worked than he had expected.

And, as he wasn't making another attempt at brewing the potion yet, the green-eyed youth found himself with a secret brewing room he had no use for at this time. Yet, given how much effort he had put into shaping it into what it was right now, he didn't want to just abandon it, not even temporarily… But really, what could he do with it? Eventually, an idea dawned upon him: he could reshape it into a more general purpose hang out spot. Just for himself, as right now he didn't have anyone he considered a close-enough friend to share such a secret with. But, in the future, who knows...

This rather uneventful school life lasted only for a couple of weeks and its end was spelled when, one day, Harry was approached by one of his yearmates, a proud pure-blood boy by the name of Jeremy Rookmoore, who wanted some advice on Charms extracurricular reading. This came as a bit of a surprise for the young Potter as Jeremy made no secret that he merely tolerated his existence in the past and, well, some upperclassman would probably be a better person to ask such a question, right? Nevertheless, Harry helped the boy as best as he could.

As it turned out, this event was just the beginning, and the green-eyed youth soon found himself dragged into the active social life of the house of the Snakes. Surprisingly enough, he wasn't forced into the role of someone's minion, like it sometimes happened with those of a lesser standing in the magical society. Instead, his peers and even many of his seniors treated him as an equal. And his opinion, while certainly not always agreed with, mattered and rarely ever was dismissed outright. It was… quite nice.

Of course, not everything was perfect and Harry often found himself at a disagreement with the more ...purist members of his house. Some of these conflict were rather annoying too as those people oftentimes refused to even consider that opinions other than their own might be right. Still, overall, the young Potter found himself enjoying socializing with his housemates quite a lot.

 **~/ *** \~**

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was a powerful and revered wizard who held quite a few positions in the magical worlds. Understandably, he had many duties and his days were rather busy. Yet, he somehow always managed to find a bit of time to have a nice chat with his colleagues or friends. And, this fine March noon, he was having a reunion with his student and later employee, Quirinius Quirrell, who has recently returned from this sabbatical leave.

"It's nice to have you back, Quirinius." The Hogwarts headmaster said to his guest, a rather young wizard, wearing long purple robes and a turban of the same color in place of a hat.

"T-Thank you, professor." The young man in question replied. "It's nice to b-be back home."

"Indeed." Dumbledore agreed. "And, I'm sure you have many entertaining stories about your adventures abroad to share. Alas, our lives are such that our work comes before our personal pleasures, so, perhaps, another time." Making a short pause, he continued: "Meanwhile, I have a favor to ask of you, Quirinius." That certainly got the younger wizard's attention.

"Yes, p-professor?" He asked.

"As much as it saddens me say this, I once again find myself in the need of a new professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Catherine - Mrs. Armstrong - has promised to finish this academic year but, once it's over, she goes on maternity leave." The aged warlock explained.

"You w-want me to take the position come next year, r-right, professor?" The turban-wearing young man asked, receiving a nod in response.

"Yes, that would be most helpful." Dumbledore said. "You've had quite a few adventures while you were on your sabbatical - I remember reading an article in the ICW newspaper about you disposing some really nasty undead in Africa - so, I'm sure, you have quite a bit you can teach our young, when it comes to making the world around us a safer place. And you also have a bit of teaching experience; quite a few students have confessed to me that they've enjoyed your lectures about Muggles and their ways of life. So, yes, you're probably the best wizard to teach DADA that I can think of, Quirinius."

"T-thank you for your kind w-words, professor." The younger wizard replied. "I'll t-think about your offer." Dumbledore gave him his patented grandfatherly smile.

"That's all I'm asking for." For a moment the headmaster's office fell into silence. Then, Albus spoke again. "Oh my, it's almost lunch time... Why don't we relocate to the Great Hall, Quirinius? I'm sure everyone will be eager to hear about your adventures."

 **~/ *** \~**

When the first year Slytherins, eager to get their lunch after a surprisingly-tiring Transfiguration practical, walked into the Great Hall, they immediately noticed a man they've never seen before sitting at the professors' table right next to the headmaster and having an animated chat with him. Understandably, many of them got curious about who that wizard in purple robes was. And Harry was no exception there.

"Do you know who is that guy talking to Dumbledore?" He asked the twins, who were walking next to him. Flora gave him a shrug in response while Hestia actually appeared to have some idea who that man in purple might be:

"I've heard from the older girls that there was a young professor teaching who left on a sabbatical a year… A year and a half ago. Perhaps it's him?" She said.

"Oh…" The green-eyed youth breathed out. That sounded quite plausible.

"Yeah, that's professor Quirrell." Marcus Flint, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, confirmed. "He was a Muggle Studies teacher, though, they say, he has always wanted to teach something a bit more practical, like DADA or Charms. Though, given how great professors Flitwick and Armstrong are, I can't really see him taking either of those positions."

Nodding the older boy a thank you for this information, Harry took a seat at the Slytherin table and began piling food on his plate. Still, despite his hunger, he found himself unable to fully concentrate on his meal as his thoughts kept wandering back to ex-professor in purple. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he felt like there was something off about the man. Perhaps it nothing more than his strange choice of headwear that perplexed him, but… Having grown up under the Dursleys' roof Harry learned to trust his instincts, and right now those were telling him that Mr. Quirrell was more than he appeared to be, and not in a good way.

For a few minutes the Potter Scion did his best to pretend that nothing was bothering him, but, before long, it got to the point where he just couldn't suppress the need to reassure himself that everything was fine. And so he stole a glance at the professors' table. Thankfully, it looked like this one time his gut feeling was wrong and the turban-wearing wizard there was just a normal man with a peculiar taste in clothings. After all, he wouldn't be the first one: headmaster Dumbledore was often seen in robes a bit too flamboyant for a man of his age and status.

Satisfied that nothing was out of order, Harry was about to return his attention to his meal, when his eyes met those of Mr. Quirrell. And an instant later a sharp stab of pain exploded through his head, seemingly originating from his infamous lightning-bolt-shaped scar.

"Ouch." He couldn't help but exclaim, while forcing himself to look away from the professors' table. This, of course, didn't go unnoticed by those sitting next to him.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hestia asked him. Her sister too seemed to be a little worried about him… Taking a moment to come to his senses, Harry nodded.

"Yeah. I think so." He said. "I just had a sudden headache when I met Mr. Quirrell's glance."

"That's strange." The girls said. "Nothing like that has happened to us or anyone else." Indeed, the ex-professor seemed to attract the glances from many people in the Great Hall, and no one else appeared to be suffering from headaches because of him. "I think it was just a coincidence." Harry responded with an uncertain hum. The Carrow twins were probably right and the pain he has just experienced was in no way connected to this Quirrell guy. Yet, his gut feeling was still telling him that the turban-wearing wizard wasn't what he appeared to be, and the fact that the headache originated from his (cursed) scar only reinforced that feeling.

Still, what were the chances that he will meet this man again? Even if something indeed wasn't quite right about him, Harry was pretty sure that he was unlikely to see him again. Thus, he went back to his meal, resolving to put this whole incident out of his mind...

* * *

"E-excuse me, professor,.." Lord Voldemort said in his imitation of his current host as he assumed direct control over him. "But, is t-that Harry Potter?" Dumbledore responded with a nod.

"Yes, Quirinius, that would indeed be young Mr. Potter." The old warlock said. "He has greatly surprised us all when he showed up for sorting a whole year earlier than expected. And then he surprised everyone again, when the Sorting Hat, against all expectations, decided to place him in Slytherin."

"Interesting… It seems t-that the rumors reaching me on m-my journey had a grain of t-truth to them after all." And as he said that, still imitating the annoying stuttering of his host, Voldemort thought about the implications of this development. For one, it looked like there indeed was something special about the Potter brat if he got his Hogwarts letter a year too soon. Not that this extra year of magical education would somehow make the boy a threat to him, but…

Then there was the matter of the boy defying everyone's expectations and getting sorted into Slytherin. He, of course, wasn't stupid enough to think that this somehow meant that Potter will become a supporter of his cause: there were many Slytherin alumni that openly opposed his before his fall, and those people had less reasons to fight against him than Potter did. But as the boy wasn't an obstinate Gryffindor, it might actually be possible to negotiate with him. And if he somehow managed to get him to step aside, there will be no one capable of truly defeating him standing in his way...

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	12. The End of the Year

And here is the twelfth chapter!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **magitech** , **The Sinful** , hopefully I can live up to your expectations; writing a not-insane-but-still-evil Voldemort is not an easy task.  
 **Ranmaleopard** , **raw666** , **Wyrtha** , **Ariadne Venegas** , **JPElles** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **city bookworm** , yes, Harry is indeed near the top of his year. He isn't the top-ranked student, though.  
 **FuZzvKiNgZz** , yes, the potion he brew indeed just overcharges his natural growth. And, yes, it works. Just not fast enough for its effects to be really noticeable to the people who see Harry every day.

 *** AN**: And this concludes Harry's first year at Hogwarts...

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text_

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon**  
 **Chapter XII: The End of the Year  
**

It actually took Harry a while to realize that he now was something akin to the leader of his year. At any rate, he was well-respected and his word had quite a bit of weight with his classmates. And even by some of the older Slytherins as well. However, he saw little reason to exercise this influence of his as, despite the common misconception, his housemates weren't noticeably meaner than students from the other houses. Indeed, about the only thing Harry forced onto them was the ban on the word 'mudblood', its derivatives and similar racist slurs.

Officially, he did it because such crude language was unbecoming of the future pillars of the magical society. Unofficially… well, while no one dared to call him or his muggle-born mother any of those obscenities to his face, hearing such language used against others still hurt him on the inside since he knew that had the things been even a little different, he'd have been scorned for not having purely-magical blood flowing through his veins just like them.

Surprisingly enough, his move gained a lot of support. Not just from those with mixed parentage, but a number of pureblood children, some even from the supposedly dark families, also decided to throw their support behind the idea. Of course, not everyone agreed with this proposition, and these people didn't hesitate to make their opinions known, often going beyond just words when delivering their 'arguments' against Harry's initiative. In the end, though, they weren't numerous enough or loud enough to do anything and the change in the house's policy was enacted. No one, however, could've predicted just how much of an impact this deceptively-simple change would have...

Within a week, the Serpent's Den descended into great discord as those who refused to accept the 'new ways' tried their best to make everything as it was before while the supporters of the new policy fought tooth and nail to keep the house moving towards its betterment… At least everyone remembered the unwritten rules of Slytherin and kept this conflict behind closed doors - it wasn't hard to imagine just how much more troublesome this whole mess would have been, if the people from the other houses had been aware of this strife… Indeed, the Slytherins weren't exactly well-liked by the rest of the school and there were, no doubt, many who would capitalize on their moment of weakness to smite the 'Slimy Snakes'.

By the time this strife died down and the opposition of the 'new ways' finally accepted that they wouldn't be able to change things back to how they used to be, it was the beginning of May already and the end of the year examinations were near at hand. Passing these exams with good marks was very important as each individual's accomplishments mattered a lot in the Serpent's Den, so everyone was busy getting ready for the tests and whatever personal conflicts there were receded into the background.

 **~/ *** \~**

Harry let out a tired sigh as he collapsed into his favorite armchair in the Slytherin common room. The exams were finally over for him! The tests had been quite tiring, but he managed to pass them all alright: History of Magic and Astronomy were the only subjects where he failed to achieve 'Outstanding'. Those were some pretty good results, seeing as he scored second best in Slytherin and sixth schoolwide. The Fates, however, seemed to have decided that it wasn't time for him to relax just yet...

"Mr. Potter." Professor Snape said as silently appeared next to him, seemingly materializing out of some shadow. "The Headmaster would like to speak with you."

"O-Of course." Harry replied, startled by the Potions Master's abrupt appearance as well as by the sudden and inexplicable summon. "I'll go there immediately." Receiving a curt nod from his head of the house, the young Potter pulled himself out of the armchair and headed towards the exit from the common room, accompanied by the man's fixed glare: professor Snape still was rather angry with him over the policy-change fiasco. Indeed, the discord in the Serpents' Den added a lot of unwanted work onto his plate, including separating the affrays and running the damage control. Really, Harry felt very sorry for the trouble his decision has caused, but he was too scared to approach professor Snape and tell him that…

* * *

"Come in, Harry, my boy." Dumbledore's voice reached him through the door. Letting out a sigh as he did his best to suppress his nervousness, the green-eyed Potter entered the headmaster's office.

"You wanted to see me, Sir?" He asked.

"Yes." The aged warlock replied with a nod. "Please have a seat; I need to discuss something very important with you." He said, while gesturing towards one of the chair sitting in front of his desk.

"What is that you wanted to discuss with me, Sir?" Harry asked as he seated himself.

"You see, my boy, the summer holidays are near at hand and so we need to talk over your plans for the summer..." Not giving the raven-haired youth a chance to insert even a single word, the headmaster continued: "Now, I know that I'll have no actual authority over you once the academic year is over, but I'd still like it if you spend at least a couple of week at your aunt's house." Upon hearing this request Harry made a wry face: he didn't want to return under the Dursleys' roof. Especially since he knew he totally could afford renting a room in the Leaky Cauldron or somewhere else in the magical world for the summer months.

"Why, Sir?" He asked, wanting to know, why Dumbledore wanted him to go back to #4, Privet Drive.

"Well… You see, Harry, not everyone in the magical world is a nice person. There exist those who would rather use their gift of Magic to hurt others. Back before you were born, many such individuals flocked under the banner of Dark Lord Voldemort. And, unfortunately, quite a few of them managed to escape justice after he fell on that fateful Halloween night… And now that you've returned to the magical world, they might try to seek you out and hurt you, either to avenge their fallen lord, or simply because they can." Dumbledore replied, sounding older as he actually was.

"But, Sir, how does this relate to me having to go back to the… Dursleys' house?" The young Potter asked, not quite following the headmaster's train of thoughts. Wouldn't he be safer somewhere in the magical world?

"You see, when you were placed into your aunt's care, some very powerful arcane wards were erected around that house. Those wards can keep anyone wishing you harm far away, but they aren't perpetual and need to be recharged yearly. That's why I would like you to spend a couple of weeks at your aunt's house - to recharge the wards. This way, you'll have a safe haven available to you, should you find yourself in the need of one."

"Very well, Sir, I'll think about this…" Harry said after a few moments of silence, mostly to get the headmaster off his back. He was more than a little skeptical about the man's claim that Privet Drive was the safest place for him to be at when away from Hogwarts. And, if the wards around his relatives' house indeed existed and were as powerful as advertised, shouldn't they have protected him when his cousin tried to push him down the stairs a couple of years ago? Or when his aunt almost hit him on his head with a hot frying pan? Or in any number of other situations that might have resulted in serious injury or even death for him?

"I hope you'll make a wise decision, my boy." Dumbledore replied, his tone making it quite clear which choice he wanted the green-eyed youth in front of him to make.

"Will this be all, Sir?" Harry asked then.

"If you have nothing else that you'd like to discuss with me, than I see no reason to keep you away from your friends, my boy." Dumbledore replied with that damn twinkling bright in his eyes… Shaking his head, Harry excused himself and left the man's office.

 **~/ *** \~**

Aside from the summon by the headmaster, the final week of school passed without any notable events for Harry. Until the End-of-the-Year Feast, of course. The feast was something that he both looked forward to and dreaded. Former because, well, it was a glorious event, especially since Slytherins would also be celebrating their well-earned victory in the House Cup. And the latter, because it meant that the academic year was over and the time to vacate the welcoming halls of Hogwarts for the summer came.

And Harry most certainly wasn't happy about that; the castle was the closest place to home he knew, and he'd rather remain there. Alas, that wasn't an option and he had to either go back to his relatives for the summer or spend the holidays renting a room in some magical inn. And the headmaster made it quite clear which option he was supposed to choose. Harry didn't like it one bit, but there was so damn little he could do about it. Albus Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard and politician on the British Isles, you either complied with his request, or he made you comply... At very least, if he returned to Privet Drive willingly, he'd be free to spend his summer however he wanted once the wards protecting the house were recharged.

* * *

On the train ride back to London the young Potter found himself sharing a compartment with the Carrow twins as well as some second year Slytherin boy whose name kept eluding him. It was a pleasant ride as Flora and Hestia were some of the few the people he liked being around, yet Harry still felt a little unease as the dreadful moment when he met the Dursleys again loomed over him. His anxiety didn't go unnoticed by the girls, and they wanted to know whether he was alright or not. And since he didn't want to involve them in his personal problems, Harry lied, saying that everything was fine. And whether or not the twins believed him, they chose to respect his privacy and didn't pry any further.

While the journey from Hogsmeade to London was a long one, sooner or later it had to come to an end. And as the sun began to lean towards the horizon, the Hogwarts Express entered the London suburbs and started slowing down. Just a little bit more, and it'd arrive to platform 9¾… Harry felt another wave of anxiety wash over him at this thought. He really didn't want to return under the Dursleys' roof, not after he had experienced a different life at Hogwarts.

"-er?.. Harry?" Flora's hand gently placed on his shoulder brought him out of his somber thoughts.

"Ah. Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts…" Harry said, rubbing the back of his head nervously. "What were you saying again?" Hestia shook her head as she breathed out a soft sigh, while her twin spoke:

"Disappearing into your own little world while others are talking to you is quite impolite, Harry." She chastised him lightly. "Anyway, as I was saying, we should probably introduce you to our grandmother. In the letters she sent us over the year, she has expressed quite some interest in your character." This caught the green-eyed youth by surprise. The regent of the house Carrow wanted to meet him? And the twins actually thoughts it would be a good idea to hold this meeting today? At very least, based on what Flora and Hestia told him about their grandmother, she was a strict but fair lady. And, while she wasn't one of the Dark Lord's supporters… Well, she did support Voldemort's original agenda of preserving and promoting the traditions of Magical Britain, but she detested the methods the madman had used.

"Alright." Harry said with a sigh of his own after a few long moments of silence. He might not know enough about wizarding etiquette yet to be sure that he could handle anything thrown his way in a fitting matter, but postponing this meeting would likely have a worse impact than any mistakes he might make today as it would look like he was running away at the first sign of hardship. A trait that wasn't respected either by wizards or by muggles…

"Don't worry. I'm sure grandmother will like you." Hestia tried to reassure him. Harry could only respond with a small sigh, as he hoped that his friend was right.

* * *

The crowd of parents waiting for their children on the platform 9¾ that greeted Harry as he disembarked from the Hogwarts Express was far worse than he expected, and he'd probably get lost in it were he on his own. Thankfully for him the twins seemed to have no problems with navigating through the thick crowd and they quickly found a way to a less packed part of the platform.

"Flora, Hestia!" An witch in strict dark-maroon robes and a matching pointy hat called. And while the girls greeted their grandmother, Harry studied regent of the house Carrow from a respectful distance of a few yards. She was a thin and not very tall woman with short-ish hair that just began graying - this actually caught Harry off-guard a little as he was expecting someone a bit more ...grandmotherly? Yes, he imagined her to be a lot more like a stereotypical granny, much like those pictured in the muggle children's books... His further thoughts on the matter were interrupted when Lady Carrow addressed to him: "And you must be Mr. Harry Potter, young man." He gave her a nod.

"Yes, ma'am." After a brief moment, the etiquette lessons the twins and Gemma tried to drill into his head clicked, and he hastily added: "It's an honor to meet you, Lady Carrow."

"Such a well-mannered young man..." The witch said. "Will grow into quite a looker too. No wonder my granddaughters are so smitten by you." Now, this was something that Harry had no idea how to react to, so he just stood there, gaping like an idiot. Flora and Hestia immediately tried to deny this accusation, but their exasperated denials that such attraction might ever exist didn't sound very convincing when they had those intense blushes on their faces. Thankfully for him, Lady Carrow decided that she had had enough of teasing him. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter. Alas, I'm afraid, we have to cut our chat short today. We do have arrangements that can't wait and, I'm positive, so do you." Pausing for a moment to take a breath, she then added: "I do hope, however, that we can have a proper conversation some time soon, Mr. Potter. I'll let you iron out the details with my girls."

"Of course, ma'am. It will be my pleasure." Harry replied.

"Oh, I have no doubts about that." Lady Carrow said with a small laugh. Then, turning her attention to her granddaughters, she said: "Flora, Hestia, let us be on our way. The dinner to celebrate your return from Hogwarts should be ready and waiting for you." Nodding, the twins waved him an enthusiastic goodbye as the three witches began walking towards the public floo… Waiting till they all disappeared in the flashes of emerald flames, Harry let out a sigh. It was the time for him to get reunited with his family as well, even if they were… well, the Dursleys. So, picking up his trunk, he headed for the gate that separated platform 9¾ from the rest of the Kings Cross.

* * *

Finally managing to separate himself from the perpetual chaos that filled the muggle side of the station, Harry sat down on his trunk and tried to catch his breath. It was official now: he _hated_ crowded places! He didn't get a chance to rest properly as not a minute later his uncle found him.

"Why are you dallying here, boy?" The walrus-like man barked without even bothering to greet him. "Get your sorry ass in my car so that I can finally come back home."

"Happy to see you too, uncle Vernon." The young wizard snapped back. Mr. Dursley's face turning purple probably meant that he'd be in trouble once they returned to number Four, but right now he was a little beside himself and didn't care too much about that… After a few seconds of tense silence, Harry pushed himself off his trunk and shook the dust off his clothes. "Alright, lead the way." He said, letting out a soft sigh. Then, looking up, he saw that his uncle wasn't waddling his way back to his car and, instead, was staring at him. "Hmm?"

"Boy! W-What have they been feeding you w-with?" Now it was Harry's turn to stare.

"What are you talking about?" He asked back, trying to understand what has shocked his uncle so much. Did the man really expect him not to change at all over the past nine months or something? Not getting any distinct answer from his uncle, the young Potter walked up to a nearby shopwindow and used it as a substitute mirror. And he couldn't see anything out of order about himself. Yes, he as put on a couple of kilos during his time at Hogwarts and grew up a little, but, really, he looked like he supposed to be. Just like an average Hogwarts student who has just finished his first year of magical education…

It was then a realization hit Harry with the force a steam engine going full speed: it wasn't supposed to be like that! He was at least a year younger than everyone, after all. And, yet, he now looked just as old as his classmates… His potion has actually worked!

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	13. Summertime

At long last, the thirteenth chapter is here for your enjoyment!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **Quoba** , I will not actively bash Hermione, but she certainly will have limited interaction with Harry at best - after all, they are in different houses and in different years, why would they interact much with each other? And that might or might not have a noticeable impact on some events that will be taking place at Hogwarts in the following years.  
 **Cain Raiser** , **magitech** , **geetac** , **HuffPride** , **Ranmaleopard** , **MargaritaS** , **kaitenglory** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **Thundramon** , this will - eventually - be a Flora/Harry/Hestia story, though it will be at least another full year before anything really "interesting" happens between them. For now, they will be "just" friends.  
 **Borg Colective** , c'mon, is the map finding its way into the Weasley twins' hands a bit early is that important? As for the future Yule balls... Who knows... ;) Harry not getting to attend the previous one, though, isn't going to be forgotten - at least by the Malfoys - just yet, though.

 *** AN**: It took me awhile to finish this chapter, but, in my defense, I just couldn't find a good spot to split it, so I kept going on and on until I had the entire summer covered... Thus, this chapter is much longer than the usual one.

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text_

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon  
Chapter XIII: Summertime**

Much like Harry predicted, the Dursleys weren't exactly thrilled to have his 'freakishness' back in their house and their lives. Indeed, as soon as she recovered from seeing the new him, his aunt immediately ordered all of his obviously-magical things locked in the cupboard under the stairs. The same fate almost befell his textbooks as well, but the young wizard somehow managed to dissuade her from that idea and got the permission to keep them in his room… Thus, the time Harry spent at Number Four consisted of him doing his summer homework and reading ahead a little whenever he wasn't busy doing various chores his relatives saddled him with.

A couple of days after his return to the Dursley's, Harry received an owl from Flora and Hestia in which they asked about his summer plans: their grandmother still wanted to have a proper chat with him - something that didn't seem to be possible while he was stuck in the muggle world. In his response he told the girls that they will be able to negotiate the time and place for this meeting once he returned to the magical side. This seemed to satisfy Lady Carrow for the time being, and the Dursleys suffered no further owl-delivered letters...

Once the two weeks were over and the Blood Wards around Number Four were recharged, the young Potter saw no reason to stay at the house any longer. His aunt and uncle agreed with that decision and wholeheartedly supported it. They even showed some unusual generosity and gratuitously gave him enough money for a train ride to London!

Upon his return to the Magical world, Harry immediately rented himself a room in the 'Leaky Cauldron' for the rest of the summer. And while there likely was a better inn somewhere in Diagon Alley, he didn't actually feel like looking for it: the room he got at the 'Cauldron' was rather nice and very affordable. Plus, Tom the bartender was a cool old man and offered his help with whatever summer homework the green-eyed wizard still needed to do.

Anyhow, once he got settled for the summer, Harry sent a letter to the Carrow twins telling them that he was now ready to meet their grandmother at her earliest convenience. And, according to the response he received, this 'earliest convenience' would be the first of July…

And while he waited for the day X to come, the green-eyed wizard busied himself with trying to learn a bit more about the history of the house Potter as well as its place in the Magical world. Asking the Gringotts' goblins gave him an insight into the estate he was going to inherit once he came of age, but that wasn't exactly the knowledge he sought. Meanwhile, finding a good and not overly-prejudiced book on magical bloodlines turned out to be quite a large order for Harry. He ended up asking Gemma for advice, and the now-alumni witch quickly directed him to a somewhat less-known book on the topic that he actually found to be satisfactory.

 **~/ *** \~**

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter." Lady Carrow greeted as she gracefully stepped out of the fireplace. Then, without waiting for him to greet her back she continued: "Shall we now head for the place we've agreed upon?" While the Leaky Cauldron was a great place to meet each other, the pub wasn't really the best place to hold serious and somewhat private conversations. Thus, the two of them decided to use a tea shop down the Diagon Alley as the actual place for their meeting.

"Good afternoon." The Potter heir greeted her back. "Yes, let's go." He then answered Lady Carrow's question. Without saying another word, the witch turned on her heels and headed out of the Leaky Cauldron. A moment later, Harry hurried after her…

A quick walk down the Diagon Alley later, the two of them were seated in a comfortable booth at the back of the tea shop. It was a nice place, the raven-haired youth had to admit. Whereas the pub part of Leaky Cauldron was dark and shabby, here everything was tastefully-decorated and bathed in warm light of great many candles. And the low buzz of chatter that always filled the Diagon Alley's most famous pub was absent here, allowing the few customers to enjoy their afternoon tea in relative silence. Also, while the prices here were certainly not as democratic, Harry couldn't call them outlandish either... All in all, this tea shop looked like a good place for a meeting.

"I'm sure that you are curious about my wanting to meet with you, Mr. Potter." Lady Carrow said. It wasn't even a question, but the green-eyed youth nodded affirmatively regardless. "Well, while I do trust my girls to make good friends for themselves, I still want to get to know the person that has attracted their interest, especially when that person is known for breaking the people's expectations of him." She said, clearly referring to Harry's sorting into Slytherin when everyone thought that he'd follow his parents' footsteps and end up under the Gryffindor banner.

"And so, here we are." The young Potter concluded.

"Indeed." Lady Carrow confirmed. "You are a very interesting young man, Mr. Potter, and I would like to know where you stand in our world." There was a small pause during which she took a sip from her tea cup. Then she continued: "I've heard from my granddaughters that you've managed to install some very interesting policies in Slytherin this past academic year, Mr. Potter."

"The use of such crude language is unbecoming of the future leaders of the Magical world and profanes the sacred halls of Hogwarts." Harry repeated his official reasoning for advocating a ban on the discriminatory slur, like the _'M'-word_ , in Slytherin.

"Of course it is." The elder witch agreed. "It is also one of the reasons for the bad reputation Slytherin currently has with the crowds." After a short moment of silence, she added: "But, admit it, you did what you've done for personal reasons as well, Mr. Potter."

"I… will not deny that." He confirmed carefully.

"Good." Lady Carrow replied. "Family is important. And one should defend the honor of their family members, especially of those who are no longer with us..." These words were followed by a rather long pause. Eventually, this uneasy silence was broken by the elderly witch: "Please forgive me if I brought up the things you'd rather not deal with at this moment, Mr. Potter." Harry shook his head.

"Everything's alright." He reassured, even if he indeed would rather not be reminded that he was an orphan. Yes, he has accepted that his parents have left the world of living, but… There was probably nothing he wouldn't give to have them back.

"Well then." Lady Carrow began. "Perhaps we can talk about something else then?" Upon Harry's nod she continued: "How about your other experiences with Slytherin? If it is anything like I remember it, there should be more to the Serpent's Den than just debasing everyone you think is below you with derogatory language." Harry nodded again.

"Yeah. There is quite a lot of talking - at least among the upper years - about politics." He confirmed. "And it sounds like no one is truly satisfied with the course our government takes. Though, there is no unanimous agreement on who is to blame for the perceived shortcomings."

"Now, this sounds a lot more like the Slytherin I remember." Lady Carrow said. There was a brief pause, before she continued: "I'm pretty sure that people are talking about the separation between our world and the muggle one a lot, too." And she was spot on.

"Yes, and quite a few are afraid that if muggleborns are allowed to join the wizarding society freely, they will destroy its… uniqueness? Culture?" Harry paused for a brief moment to gather his thoughts. Then he continued: "And while I can't say that those fears are entirely baseless - those who were raised away from Magic do have a different outlook on things - denying them their right to join the community doesn't sound like a good solution."

"Indeed." Lady Carrow agreed. "However, the fears that the outsiders will completely destroy our heritage are as old as the Magical world itself, and there is no greater outsider to us than a muggle. And now that their world is getting ever more different from our own, the fears that muggleborns will doom our culture are on the rise again." The witch fell silent for a couple of seconds, before continuing: "In fact, promises to promote the traditions of the old times, and to protect them from the muggle influence was how the Dark Lord began building his powerbase. Many of the older families either became his financial backers or outright pledged their allegiance to him. Carrows were among those families." She admitted. "And it was not until he started killing pure-bloods that disagreed with him that I finally saw past his propaganda and realized that he was not the savior many believed him to be."

"So… You don't support the Dark Lord, not anymore?" Harry asked carefully.

"No. I've seen what that man is… was, and want nothing to do with his insane quest for power. And I've raised Flora and Hestia to be better than the fools that knelt before that megalomaniac." Lady Carrow replied. "Unfortunately, there still are people in my house that believe the Dark Lord to be some sort of a messiah that they need to worship and serve."

"I see..." Was all that the green-eyed youth could say to this.

"But, enough about that." The older witch continued. "I would like to know a little more about your stance on the traditions issue."

"Well… I believe that the best way to preserve the traditions is actually to teach everyone, especially those raised in the muggle world, about them. At the very least, this will explain it to them why things are done in certain ways and make them more likely to accept the ways of the magical world..." There, Harry made a brief pause. "That said, perhaps, not every tradition of old should be continued. After all, the world we live in isn't the same as before." Lady Carrow nodded in agreement.

"That actually sounds very reasonable. The teaching about the traditions part, that is." She said. These words were followed by a few moments of silence as neither had a good idea, what else to say there… Then, Lady Carrow decided that the change of subject was in order: "What other interesting topics are being discussed in the Serpents' Den?" She asked. "I'm sure, the future of our traditions is hardly the only thing people talk about." Suppressing his desire to let out a sigh - he felt like this was an interrogation, and he didn't like this feeling - Harry began:

"Well…"

* * *

Harry's meeting with Lady Carrow continued well into the evening hours, and during this time he answered quite a number of her questions, a good deal of which were about his opinion on various political doings. But, of course, wizarding politics weren't the only thing they've talked about. The young Potter also shared his thoughts on Hogwarts and the courses offered to the students there - at least, the 'core' ones as electives didn't start until the third year and, thus, he hasn't had a chance to see what those were about yet.

In turn, Lady Carrow told Harry a few stories from her own time at Hogwarts, giving him a small glimpse at what the Britain's premiere school of Magic was like some fifty years ago. And he would lie if he said that he didn't enjoy those.

Once their meeting came to an end and the two of them were returned to the 'Leaky Cauldron', Harry couldn't help but notice that Lady Carrow appeared to be in a pretty good mood. It looked like he managed to make a good impression on her and the waves he has made within Slytherin weren't upsetting her. And whatever else it might mean for him, he was certain that he would be allowed to continue his friendship with Flora and Hestia freely. And he was really happy about this, as the twins became his close friends and he couldn't really imagine being at Hogwarts without them by his side anymore.

 **~/ *** \~**

The next couple of weeks flew by rather quietly for the green-eyed Potter. Indeed, nothing much was happening around him these days and the letters he was exchanging with the Carrow twins and Gemma were about the only thing that broke the monotony of the hot summer days for him… At least until he ran into Quirinus Quirrell in the pub...

"Mr. Potter, it's an h-honor to finally meet you in person." The turban-wearing man said as he vigorously shook the surprised pre-teen's hand.

"You are Mr. Quirrell, right?" Harry asked, recalling his name from that small conversation he had had with his Slytherin upperclassmen back in spring. "I've been told that you taught Muggle Studies in the past." The older wizard nodded.

"Yes, yes, I did." He said. "And n-now Professor Dumbledore asked me to t-teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Such an h-honor… I've heard many g-good things about P-professor Armstrong, I h-hope I will be able to measure up t-to her." Upon hearing that, the green-eyed youth frowned a little: Professor Armstrong was a great teacher and he didn't want anyone else replacing her. Alas…

"I'm sure you'll do great." He said politely. "But, if that's not a secret, what happened to Professor Armstrong?" After a small pause, he added: "And should I be calling you 'professor'?"

"Thank you, and n-no, it's alright to not c-call me 'professor' during the summer holidays." Quirrell replied. "As for your question about P-professor Armstrong… Well… It was a f-family matter that made her r-retire. She's expecting."

"Oh." Was all that Harry could reply to this. It was so unexpected... Still, he was happy to hear that one of his favorite teachers didn't suffer some terrible fate like some of the previous DADA professors did, according to the rumors circulating around the Slytherin common room.

* * *

As it turned out, Professor Quirrell too was staying at the 'Leaky Cauldron' for the time being. However, the turban-wearing wizard was quite busy with his preparations for the upcoming academic year and Harry didn't get to see the man all that often at the pub, nor had he another opportunity to talk to him. Which was quite a shame too, as he could narrate some interesting stories about the dark magics and dangerous creatures he had run across during his sabbatical…

Thus, the next few days flew by without anything really noteworthy happening in the young Potter's life; a letter from Hogwarts with the list of books he needed to get for his second year there and the subsequent shopping were about the most exciting thing to happen during this time… Then, before he knew it, it was July 31st, his birthday.

And it was the first birthday - well, the first one he remembered - for which he got real gifts. From Flora and Hestia and Gemma. And even a few other people in Slytherin he associated closely with sent him something… Of course, these gifts were rather token ones, but that didn't matter to Harry; the mere fact that people, his friends, congratulated him and wished him best was enough to make him the happiest person in the world that morning.

Harry's afternoon started out pretty well too. He was having a nice time sitting in the warm sunlight outside Florean Fortescue's, eating some delicious ice-cream he got on the house as a birthday gift from the parlor's owner and reading ahead his Charms textbook when Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, approached him.

"Ah, there yer are, Harry." The gentle half-giant. "I've been looking for yeh; Tom said that yeh were somewhere in the Alley." He paused for a moment as he rummaged through the many pockets of his coat. "Ah, here it is. Happy birthday, Harry." He then said, while handing over what looked like an old photo. "I thought yer would like to have it." Curious about this gift, Harry took the picture from Hagrid's hand and studied it.

It was a magical, moving photo depicting a pair of people who: a dark-haired young man who looked a lot like an older version of Harry himself, and a red-haired woman with piercing-green eyes. They both were smiling and waving happily to an unseen audience. Or maybe even to Harry himself.

"That's James and Lily Potter, yer parents." The Hogwarts gamekeeper commented. There was a moment of silence, before he added rather bashfully: "I wanted teh make a whole album of their photos for yeh, but this is the only one I managed to find so far. I asked other people fer their photos of James and Lily but no one has shared any yet."

"Don't worry." Harry replied while doing his best to hold back the sudden tears. "And, thank you, Hagrid. This is the best gift I could've asked for." These words made the man smile brightly. There was a short pause, before the young Potter spoke again: "Anyway, what brings you to the Diagon Alley? You didn't travel all the way there just to wish me happy birthday, right?"

"No, no, this is alright, Harry. It would be wrong teh send a gift like this with an owl." The large man said. "'Sides, I'm also running an errand for Professor Dumbledore - such a great man - he asked me teh retrieve something very important from Gringotts."

"Ah… Okay..." The young Potter replied. And, really, what else could he say here? As suspicious as this whole fetch-some-secret-object-from-the-goblins task sounded, the headmaster's orders to his staff were really none of his business. "That sounds very important; I shouldn't be holding you up then, Hagrid." He said after a short pause. Then, he quickly added: "And, once again, thank you very much for the gift." As the Hogwarts gamekeeper nodded before continuing on his way, Harry took another look at his parents' photo, before stashing it inside his Charms textbook - it was something he'd really hate to lose, so he'd rather not wave it around in the open - and returning to his reading...

* * *

A few hours later, just as Harry was about to return to the 'Leaky Cauldron', a great commotion happened down the Diagon Alley. Apparently, the goblins were closing their bank down early for some reason. And they were doing so with armored and heavily-armed guards instead of the usual less-warlike tellers. Curious about what was going on, Harry joined the gathering crowd.

"Any idea why they are closing Gringotts?" He asked some non-descript wizard he ended up next to. "It's not the end of their workday yet."

"I've heard that some crazy tried to steal from them, even managed to get down to the vaults." The man replied. "But, I'm sure, those are just empty words - everyone knows that it's impossible to steal from the goblins." So, there was a break in in the Gringotts, and a rather successful one, Harry thought.

"I see… Thank you." While this indeed was a major accident, the young Potter really doubted that any real information will be shared with the public right now and, thus, there wasn't any reason for him to stand there with the rubbernecks. And with that thought Harry turned around and headed to the 'Leaky Cauldron'. Still, he needed to make sure that all of the Potter monies and valuables entrusted to Gringotts were where they were supposed to be, so he made a mental note to contact the Potter accountant as soon as possible.

* * *

The next morning Harry learned from the 'Daily Prophet' that while there indeed was a break in at Gringotts, nothing was actually stolen from the goblin bank... In fact, according to the newspaper, the vault the mysterious robbers broke into had been emptied just a few hours beforehand.

Immediately, the green-eyed Potter recalled Hagrid telling him that Professor Dumbledore had asked him to pick something very valuable up from Gringotts. Was it really just a coincidence that the break in occurred on that day? And what exactly that mysterious object Hagrid took away was? - It had to be something really valuable as, otherwise, why would anyone even think about risking their life trying to break in into one of the most secure places in the Magical Britain?

Still, as tempting as it was to try and take a shot at finding the truth about this mysterious object, Harry knew well that it actually was none of his business and decided against investigating it. He, of course, reserved his right to change his mind in case it somehow turned out to be a danger to him or his friends...

 **~/ *** \~**

A week after his birthday Harry received a letter from the Flora and Hestia, in which they invited him to join them and some of their friends on their shopping for Hogwarts. And, despite having already bought everything he'd need for the upcoming academic year, he eagerly accepted this invitation as he was quite through with his textbooks.

As he sent his response, the green-eyed Potter couldn't help but wonder, who exactly will be joining him and the twins on their little excursion through the Diagon Alley. Indeed, Flora and Hestia that he knew weren't exactly social butterflies and preferred to stay in the background, so Harry actually had a bit of a trouble imagining them inviting someone from their class for this little shopping spree… Perhaps those friends where someone who would be starting their education at Hogwarts this year? Oh well, he'll be getting his answers soon enough…

* * *

Harry shot another look at the clock that hung on the pub's wall before letting out a deep sigh. It was still ten or so minutes before the meeting time, and he was so bored sitting there and waiting for the twins (or their friends) to finally show up. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the fireplace since he knew that the floo network was how the girls will be getting to the 'Leaky Cauldron'. Alas, it looked like he still needed to wait some more as the floo stubbornly remained inactive.

After five or some minutes - though, for Harry if felt like much more time has passed - the flames finally turned emerald-green, indicating that someone was about to floo in. And the dark-haired wizard really hoped that this time it indeed were the twins and not someone else… Thankfully for his sanity, a second later Flora gracefully emerged from the green blaze, her sister following her a moment later. Getting up from his seat, Harry walked up to his pretty classmates.

"Hello, beau-..." He began, only to stop as the flames once again turned green and Lady Carrow came out a moment later. Taking a brief moment to recompose himself, the green-eyed wizard tried again: "Good morning, Lady Carrow, Flora, Hestia." He greeted them properly, doing his best to pretend that he didn't just try to greet the girls in a way that so familiarly just now - an attempt that wasn't all that convincing due to the twins' giggles. "You all look wonderful today." He added then.

"Why, thank you, Mr. Potter." Lady Carrow replied with a small nod. "You too look quite handsome this morning." Flora and Hestia seemed to think so too, if their titter and light blushes were of any indication. Not that Harry, being a boy not even into his teens, could understand that…

The flames in the 'Leaky Cauldron's' fireplace chose this moment to turn green again, and a moment later a dark-skinned boy of his age stepped out of the floo.

"Morning, Blaise." The twins greeted him. Flora then turned to her green-eyed classmate: "Harry, this is our friend, Blaise Zabini. Blaise, this our classmate and friend, Harry Potter." She introduced them to each other.

"Delighted." The boy said, while offering Harry his hand.

"Likewise." The young Potter replied, while shaking his hand. "So…" He continued after a moment, trying to start some small talk. "You'll be starting Hogwarts this year, right?" Blaise nodded.

"Yes." He said. "And, until the last year, I was looking forward to being your classmate... Then, I read in the 'Daily Prophet' that you somehow managed to get in a whole year too soon." Harry let out a small chuckle: Blaise was certainly not the first one to be surprised by this.

"To be honest, I don't think there is anyone out there who really knows why this happened." He said with a shrug. "But, I'm most definitely not complaining about this." He added then, making Flora and Hestia to giggle a little at this somewhat-intended compliment. Any further conversation between them, however, was interrupted by the arrival of the rest of their group: one by one, four witches stepped out of the floo's green flames. The first one to appear out of the blaze was a pretty brunette of about Harry's real age, and a second or two later she was joined by a girl who, no doubt, was her younger sister. They were followed by a dark-haired girl, who was Harry's coeval. Unlike her companions, however, this girl didn't have that air of aristocracy about her. The final one to step out of the flames was a rather tall and regal woman, who looked to be in her late twenties or maybe early thirties. And if Harry were to make a guess, he'd say that this Lady was the mother of the sisters.

"Lady Greengrass." Lady Carrow greeted the other noblewoman with a polite bow. "I see that you've brought your youngest along." She observed.

"Yes." Lady Greengrass replied. "Astoria was very insistent that she comes with us." Flora and Hestia chose this moment to introduce the young Potter to the rest of their friends:

"Harry, allow us to introduce you to Daphne Greengrass..." The aristocratic brunette gave him polite bow. "And Tracey Davis." Her friend did the same while also giving him a small smile. "And the little minx over there is Daphne's sister, Astoria." Flora then added with a playful twinkle in her eyes. Then, paying no heed to the said girl's indignant 'Hey!', she leaned closer to Harry and whispered into his ear: "Watch out for that lass, she can be quite a troublemaker." Her sister, meanwhile, continued with the introduction, now addressing the Tracey and Greengrass sister: "And this is our friend, Harry Potter." She said, pointing idly in his direction.

"Charmed." Harry said, while giving the girls a small, polite bow. For a couple of seconds, the silence fell over the group with only Lady Carrow and Lady Greengrass talking about something in the background. Then, Astoria decided to ask a question that, likely, was on everyone's mind, even if they were too polite to actually ask it:

"Potter, you are supposed to be of the same age with my sister, right?" She asked rather bluntly. "Then why do you look like you're much older?"

"Astoria!" Her mother immediately scolded her, before returning to her conversation with Lady Carrow.

"As rude as my little sister was, she is right. You do look ...more mature than one would've expected, Potter. Why's that?" Daphne said. Tracey, Blaise and even the Carrow twins seemed to agree with it.

"I'm not sure..." Harry said with a shrug, doing his best to pretend to be telling the truth. Indeed, there was no way he was going to admit to using a self-brewed obscure potion that might not even be entirely safe to use… Unfortunately, this answer didn't seem to satisfy their curiosity, and it looked like more questions were on the way. He was saved by Lady Greengrass, however:

"We aren't waiting for someone else, are we?" She asked, having seemingly finished her conversation with Lady Carrow. The twins as well as Daphne and Blaise shook their heads. "Then, why don't we move into the Alley and start shopping?" She said next. "Everyone has their money with them, right?" She received a round of nods in response. And with that, the group began walking towards the entrance of the Diagon Alley...

* * *

Since he already had everything he needed for the upcoming school year, this outing was little more than an opportunity for Harry to hang out with his friends. Or to make a few new ones. And he was certainly having quite a lot of fun there.

Plus, just because he wasn't there to shop for his school supplies, it didn't mean that Harry didn't buy anything at all. Indeed, he got himself an extra set of quills and some fancy ink at Scribbulus', and, when the group hit Flourish and Blotts, he followed the advice of Lady Greengrass and purchased several books on wizarding history, traditions and politics.

He also followed the witch's other advice and picked a booklet talking about the most popular magical professions and what skills one needed to be qualified for them - after all, at the end of the coming school year Harry would have to pick the elective courses, and the coursed he picked would determine which careers he will be allowed to pursue in the future. This was an extremely important decision, and Lady Greengrass believed that one needed more than just a couple of weeks to evaluate all available options. And Harry definitely agreed with this point of view…

After the bookstore the group hit several more shops, and soon enough the only thing left on their lists were wands for Daphne, Tracey and Blaise. Thus, they dropped by Ollivander's. And while watching others trying out wands wasn't as exciting as doing that himself, Harry still got a few laughs from wands refusing to work for the three soon-to-be firsties in catastrophic ways.

Before long, though, everyone got their wand and, seeing as it was still quite early in the afternoon, Lady Greengrass suggested they stop at Florean Fortescue's Ice-cream parlour to commemorate this occasion. Obviously, everyone was for it as there probably wasn't a single person in the wizarding Britain that didn't enjoy Fortescue's delightful desserts. And having a great company only made them even better!

Afterwards, they made their way back to the 'Leaky Cauldron', where they bid each other farewells. Blaise, apparently being in a hurry, was the first one to leave, floo'ing away after saying everyone quick but polite goodbyes. Harry and the girls, meanwhile, stayed at the pub for a little while longer, having some chit chat about Hogwarts and other things… Eventually, though, the adults decided that it was getting late and it was the time for their kids to return home. Once the farewells were bid, the Greengrasses left first, with Tracey tagging along with them. The Carrows floo'ed away soon thereafter, though not before Flora and Hestia said Harry their own - and much more personal - goodbyes… And as the fire in the fireplace finally returned to its natural orange-ish color, he couldn't help but think that today had been a fun day.

 **~/ *** \~**

The final three weeks of the summer were just as slow for the young Potter as were the days preceding his birthday with the letters he exchanged with his friends, both old and new ones, being about the only real excitement in his life. It wasn't like Harry complained about this, though: not having to worry about anything was really nice, and this period of calmness let him relax and gather strength for the upcoming school year. And he certainly wouldn't have minded it if his holidays lasted a little longer… Alas, Time is unstoppable, and before Harry knew it, the summer was over.

Since he had packed his things the previous night, Harry had little to do on the morning of September the first, but to sit in the pub and wait as there really was no point in arriving to the platform 9¾ before ten or so in the morning. Alas, for whatever reason he felt so skittish that he couldn't just sit back and relax. And this made the time drag on and on at a snail's pace for him, tormenting him mercilessly with this seemingly-eternal wait…

Eventually, the clock struck ten, telling the young Potter that the time has finally come. Thanking Tom the bartender again for the hospitality the man showed him over the summer and paying him for the tea and the floo powder, Harry picked his trunk and walked up to the fireplace that sat in the far corner of the pub. Taking a deep breath, he three a pinch of magical powder into the fire, causing it to turn emerald-green.

"Platform Nine and Three Quarters!" He announced loudly and as clearly as he could. Then he stepped into the flames and let the Magic catapult him towards his destination...

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	14. Back to Hogwarts

Here comes the fourteenth chapter!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **Thundramon** , once the potion completely leaves Harry's system - which would be a couple of weeks after he stops taking it - he resumes aging at the normal rate. So, for all intents and purposes, he's now twelve-or-so aged boy; this also includes his Magic.  
 **Kingdark** , I'm sorry then. This Draco - at least for now - is on the bashing side of personality skewing. That said, I think that eventually he'll experience character development and will change (slightly?) for the better. Ron... given how he's portrayed in the first book, also won't exactly be a nice person if things don't go his way. Which they often don't since he has a tendency to put his foot into his mouth.  
 **Ranmaleopard** , **JPElles** , **davycrockett100** , **jamnaz79** , **zainethedemonking** , **mizzrazz72** , **Tommy14** , **Wyrtha** , **ObsessedWithHPFanFic** , **llIMagic** , **magitech** , **akasanta** , **elvander72** , **YamiSlade** , **Kharneth666** , **Finder18** , **Necrogod** , **XPGamer** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **The Sinful** , perhaps, their popularity exists because they don't have much if any proper appearance in canon? - this lets authors write them however they want, while you can't do the same to the characters that have more 'screentime' without going AU route.  
 **Ariadne Venegas** , no, Gringotts operates on chronological age, so Harry's stunt with the potion doesn't mean anything to the goblins. Hermione will survive the troll. As for her house... I'm actually not sure, whether I should switch her over to Ravenclaw or keep her in Gryffindor.  
 **WanderingReader10** , maybe? Hedwig was a gift from Hagrid. Here, our favorite half-giant is doing the photo-album of Harry's parents instead. That said, Harry will eventually need an owl so he can send letters without renting owls from a post office or waiting for his friends to write him first. So, maybe, he will get Hedwig the next summer.

 *** AN**: Great thanks to my friend **Remilia - The Scarlet Moon** for his help in polishing this chapter.

Also, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna receive a lot of flak for the character bashing that happens in this chapter, but...

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
" _parseltongue_ "  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text_

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon  
Chapter XIV: Back to Hogwarts**

As Harry got back to his feet and brushed soot off his clothes, he couldn't help but wonder why every method of public transportation used by wizards that he came across was so uncomfortable. At least, the floo network allowed you to get from one magical fireplace to another nearly-instantaneously, so the discomfort of spinning madly through the artificial space while surrounded by flashes and howling noises of fire was somewhat tolerable.

Shaking his head, the green-eyed Potter directed his attention to the Hogwarts Express. Even though it was still only a few minutes past ten in the morning, the scarlet steam engine was already parked by the platform 9¾ and the first passengers were already boarding it. Seeing no reason not to join them, Harry picked his trunk and got on the train. Unlike the previous year, however, he didn't go for a compartment at the end of the train and claimed one closer to the middle instead. And once he was seated, knowing that it will likely be some time before his friends and acquaintances join him, Harry picked a book on the wizarding politics that he bought on Lady Greengrass's advice and started reading…

He managed to get about half an hour of uninterrupted reading before students started boarding the Hogwarts Express en-masse and people started peeking into 'his' compartment rather frequently. From there, it wasn't long before he was joined by Tracey Davis - the brunette appeared to be really happy to find a familiar face on the train. For a minute or two they just sat in silence. Then, Tracey shyly asked him what Hogwarts was like, probably afraid that she was distracting him from his book. Once reassured that he was reading merely to pass the time, though, Tracey became much livelier and Harry found himself under a barrage of questions about the classes, the professors, and everything else related to the life at Hogwarts.

He was busy telling his companion about what Transfiguration classes with Professor McGonagall were like, when the Carrow twins decided to make their appearance:

"Good morning, Harry, Tracey." They said as they entered the compartment.

"Hello." The green-eyed Potter greeted Flora and Hestia back, before standing up and offering them his assistance with putting their luggage away. The twins, of course, graciously accepted his help. Once their trunks were secured on the overhead luggage rack, the twins seated themselves besides Harry and joined his conversation with Tracey, imperceptibly shifting it away from what awaited them at Hogwarts and towards catching up with each other…

And as he listened to the girls, Harry quickly realized that he has missed quite a bit of summer fun while he stayed at the 'Leaky Cauldron', reading one book or another when he felt like it. Perhaps, he should consider including a trip to Brighton into his plans for the next summer? - Tracey made it sound like it was a lot of fun, especially going to the beach part…

The young witch's tale, however, was soon interrupted by the arrival of the final members of the group: Blaise was the first one show up with Daphne making her appearance only a minute later. And once their trunks were secured, the two of them quickly joined the conversation, both eager to learn about their friends' adventures over the past couple of weeks and to share their own.

* * *

The Hogwarts Express was still clearing the London's suburbs when the compartment door slid open, revealing a thin, pale-skinned boy with sleek blond hair and steel-gray eyes. He was accompanied by a pair of 'bodyguards' - large and burly and not particularly bright-looking boys, who would have little trouble intimidating their contemporary…

The blonde quickly greeted Blaise, Daphne and the Carrow twins in a way that made it clear that they've known each other for quite some time, before directing his attention to Harry himself.

"And you must be heir Potter, right?" He asked politely. Upon Harry's nod he continued: "Please let me introduce myself. I'm Draco Malfoy, the Heir to the Noble and illustrious house of Malfoy." Then, almost as an afterthought, he introduced his companions as well: "And this is Crabbe and this is Goyle. It a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise." Harry said, while offering Draco his hand, who eagerly shook it. The compartment fell into silence for a few moments. Then, the blond wizard opened his mouth:

"I'm glad to see that you went the right way in the Magical world, Potter, and haven't made friends with the wrong sort." He said while looking over the people in the compartment, his eyes lingering on Tracey, who was a half-blood without close blood-relation to any of the _important_ wizarding families, for a few extra moments. And while no one said anything to him about this comment of his, Harry could see clearly that his friends wouldn't think twice about helping him defend Tracey's honor, should Malfoy attack her... Thankfully for everyone, that was not why he came here: "I will be honored if you choose to join my friends and I for the train ride, Potter." Harry narrowed his eyes a little: while worded as a mere request, this was actually an order. And one that he didn't feel like following.

"Thank you for your kind offer, heir Malfoy, but, I'm afraid, I'll have to decline your invitation. I prefer my current company." He said as he leveled a penetrating gaze at Draco. The said blonde had a pink tinge appearing in his pale cheeks as he fought to hide his anger at having things not go his way.

"I suggest you think again, Potter." Malfoy said, politeness now absent from his voice. "And if you know what's good for you, you will make the right choice this time." Harry glared at the boy in front of him for a few seconds, before finally giving him an answer.

"I'd rather stay here with my friends, Malfoy." He said.

"Well then, do as you wish, Potter." Draco said. "Just don't come crying to me when your pitiful life is destroyed and you are nothing but an outcast of the Magical society. My father will most definitely hear how you spat on his goodwill and refused to pay the debts you owe to the house Malfoy." And not wasting another second, the blonde turned around and walked away.

"What debt is he talking about, Harry?" Flora asked, finally breaking the silence that reigned over their compartment for the last twenty or so seconds. The green-eyed youth shrugged.

"Hell if I know." He didn't remember making any deals with the house Malfoy, so he really had no idea how he could be indebted to them. Must be something that Draco thought up to make him do as he wished… Or was it? - no, there really was no way he owed anything to the house Malfoy... Shaking his head, Harry turned his attention back to his friends. "Anyway." He continued. "Where were we before this little interruption?" He asked, trying to resume the conversation they've had before Draco and his goons showed up.

* * *

Sooner than Harry and co would have liked it, they got another visitor. This time it was a girl with a wild mane of bushy brown hair. She was already wearing her Hogwarts uniform, which was of the default color scheme that could only ever be seen on someone who hasn't been sorted yet. A firstie.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one." She said in a bossy sort of voice.

"No, we haven't. Sorry." Hestia replied without missing a beat. The bushy-haired girl let out a small, barely-noticeable sigh. Apparently, this was far from the first compartment she has checked. Being familiar with how exhausting constant failures can be when you're looking for something, Harry decided to help the still-unnamed little witch out:

"Why don't you find a prefect and ask them for some help?" He suggested. "If this toad is still on the train, they should be able to summon it." The girl nodded.

"Thank you." She said. This was followed by a moment of silence; it was all but written on her face that she wanted to ask them a ton of questions about Hogwarts and Magic, but, thankfully, she decided that finding her friend's toad was a priority, so she just thanked Harry again for his advice before leaving the compartment.

"I hope that the next time someone disturbs us, it's the candy cart lady you've told us about." Blaise said as he shut the cabin's door close. "Perhaps we could spell it locked?" He suggested next.

"Can't do." Harry replied. "The compartment doors are warded against all standard locking charms. Allegedly, to help the prefects maintain some resemblance of discipline."

"That's too bad." The dark-skinned youth replied with a small sigh while hoping that no other annoyance will bother him and his friends…

* * *

Unfortunately, peace and quiet didn't last for long: not even fifteen minutes later they got another visitor barging into their compartment. This time it was a boy with red hair and many freckles on his face. And since he bore more than a passing resemblance to the Weasley twins, Harry quickly concluded that this must be their youngest brother, Ronald, if he remembered correctly… The Weasley boy looked around the compartment before focusing his attention on Harry. Or, to be more precise, on his Harry's forehead, his eyes seeking out the infamous lightning-bolt-shaped scar there.

"You are Harry Potter, right?" He asked straightforwardly as he pointed at the green-eyed youth in a less than polite manner. And while the redhead didn't make the best of first impressions, Harry decided to humor him and answer his question:

"And if I am?" He asked back acock. The young Weasley smiled broadly.

"Cool. I'm Ron. Ron Weasley." He introduced himself, confirming Harry's guess about his identity. "Do you really have it? The scar, I mean. Can I see it?" He asked then.

"No." The young Potter replied immediately and decisively. He really didn't like people eyeing him like he was some rare animal in a zoo because of the scar the Dark Lord gave him on that fateful Halloween night almost ten years ago.

"C'mon, mate!" Ron pushed.

"I'm not your 'mate', Weasley." Harry growled in response, rising from his seat.

"B-But I want to be your friend!" The redhead exclaimed. "I mean, you are the one who defeated You-Know-Who. You can't be bad even if you are a sli-... Slytherin." Even though the young Weasley has swapped words at the last moment, Harry could make a good guess about what he wanted to say originally. And he certainly didn't appreciate being called a 'slimy snake' or anything along those lines. Putting such a label on his friends was just as bad. Finally, as an icing on the top of the proverbial cake, he really hated when people refused to see past this ridiculous moniker he got saddled with.

"Excuse me!.." Harry hissed, cold anger clearly audible in his voice: the red-haired boy, Ronald, was really trying his patience right now…

"What?" Ron asked back, totally confused about the reaction he got out of his 'mate'.

"Are you saying what I think you are saying?" The green-eyed wizard asked him dangerously.

"Huh? What are you talking about, mate? Everybody knows that Slytherin is where all bad people go." The redhead stated as if it was a fact. He opened his mouth to add something - likely something about Harry being an exception to this 'rule' because he was the Boy-Who-Lived, the defeater of the Dark Lord Voldemort, or some other such nonsense - but Harry interrupted him:

"So… My friends and I are evil just because we're proud Slytherins?" He asked pointedly as he glared at the Weasley brat in front of him. "You're just a prejudiced moron, Weasley. If there is nothing else, please leave us be." This turned out to be the last straw, and Ron's temper exploded:

"You!.. You are just like the rest them, Potter, an evil, slimy snake!" He shouted, his voice full of rage and betrayal. "Never talk to me ever again, you bastard!" Turning around, he then stomped his way out of the compartment, slamming the door shut behind him with enough force to rattle the glass.

Harry let out a deep sigh. This could've gone much much better...

He was brought out of his thoughts by two pairs of hands snaking around his torso.

"Pay him no heed, Harry." Hestia whispered into his ear reassuringly as she and her sister gently pulled him down between them. "You're our friend, and that's all that really matters."

 **~/ *** \~**

Thankfully for Harry and his friends, the rest of the train ride was rather uneventful. That, of course, didn't mean that no one else stopped by their compartment, but those little disturbances weren't anywhere near as bothersome as Malfoy's or Weasley's self-centered attempts to force themselves into Harry's circle of friends. Indeed, the group was actually looking forward to the candy cart lady and her trolley full of wizarding sweets, and, between the six of them, they bought nearly a galleon worth of confections. And the bushy-haired witch that was looking for a missing pet toad - now accompanied by the said toad's owner and the gadabout amphibian itself - stopping by to say a 'thank you' for his advice made Harry feel quite good…

Eventually, the train began slowing down and the conductor announced that they would be arriving at Hogsmeade in half an hour, which meant it was the time to change into Hogwarts robes. The girls were kind enough to let Harry and Blaise put their uniforms on first. Then, it was the boys' turn to wait in the corridor while their pretty companions changed.

Then, Harry and Flora and Hestia had to spend the remaining few minutes of the train ride reassuring their friends that their friendship won't end even if they end up sorted into a house other than Slytherin. For whatever reason, Blaise, Tracey and, especially, Daphne were scared of getting abandoned due to being sorted in a different house…

* * *

While the first years got their first sight of Hogwarts and its majestic beauty whilst riding across the Black lake on enchanted boats, the older students had to take the "horseless" carriages to get to the castle. And, for whatever reason, it required them to take the different exits from the Hogsmeade platform… That, however, didn't stop Harry and the Carrow twins from making sure that their three friends safely joined the rest of the firsties who were gathered around Hagrid the gamekeeper, waiting for the gentle half-giant to take them to Black lake. They were about to head for the carriages, when...

"Harry!" Hagrid called, his powerful voice booming over the chatter of the excited students on the platform. "Can I have yeh for a few words?"

"Uhmm… Okay?" The green-eyed wizard said, unsure what Hagrid wanted to talk to him about.

"People have finally replied teh my letters, Harry." The Hogwarts' gamekeeper said. "When yeh have time, please stop by my hut, I'll give yeh the photos." Ah, Harry thought, so this was about the photographs of his parents that Hagrid has promised to him when the two of them met in the Diagon Alley during the summer holidays.

"Wow, thank you, Hagrid." The young Potter said. "I'll make sure to drop by your place - say - tomorrow in the afternoon, if that's alright with you."

"Of course, Harry." The half-giant responded with a nod.

"See you tomorrow then. And thank you once more." Harry said, before rejoining Flora and Hestia as the three of them continued on their way to the area where "horseless" carriages that would take them straight to Hogwarts were parked…

"What was that about, Harry?" Flora asked after some time, her curiosity about what Hagrid wanted to share with her friend finally getting the better of her. Her twin sister sister appeared to be just as curious.

"Ah, well..." The green-eyed youth began. "Our dear Hagrid decided that he wanted to gift me with an album full of my parents' photos for my birthday. But the people he asked to share their photos with him didn't reply in time for that, so he could only gift me the photo he had himself. Now, though, he got his replies and wants to finally hand those photos over to me." The girls just nodded in response, not really knowing what to say here.

 **~/ *** \~**

As Harry quickly realized, the Sorting Ceremony was something entirely different when you weren't the one being sorted. Sitting there quietly and clapping whenever someone got sorted into Slytherin was kinda boring. The fact that the Sorting Hat often took its sweet time to decide where to put this firstie or that one wasn't really helping to alleviate that boredom either… Eventually, though, Blaise Zabini was made a Slytherin - just like Daphne and Tracey before him - and the Sorting Ceremony was finally over.

The young Potter was really glad that his friends all got sorted into Slytherin. Of course, neither he, nor Flora and Hestia lied when they promised to be their friends regardless of where the Sorting Hat put them, but… It was just so much easier to be someone's friend at Hogwarts when you were in the same house…

Unfortunately, his friends weren't the only new snakes in the den. Malfoy and his two goons got sorted there as well. And, given how their encounter on the Hogwarts Express earlier today ended, Harry could clearly see how that would cut deeply into his hopefully-peaceful school time, at the very least for the foreseeable future…

He was brought out of his thoughts by the headmaster's short and a bit crazy 'speech', immediately after which the golden plates on table suddenly became full with all sorts of delicious foods. It was the time to feast and Harry was undeniably hungry. He could worry about whatever problems Malfoy would try to cause him later.

* * *

Once the feast came to an end, Dumbledore once again rose from his throne-like chair. It took the students in the Great Hall a few seconds to fall silent and, once that happened, the old warlock gave them a number of start-of-term notices. The first of which, of course, was introduction of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Quirinus Quirrell. The turban-wearing wizard stood up and gave a polite bow as the students clapped for him. He then quickly thanked everyone for the warm welcome he was given and gave the word back to the headmaster.

Dumbledore then proceeded to inform the first year students and remind their seniors that the Forbidden Forest on the castle's grounds was, in fact, forbidden. He also informed that using Magic in the corridors was still forbidden. Next, he said a few words about the quidditch trials - a part that Harry didn't even bother to listen to… Then the headmaster dropped the proverbial bomb:

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." The aged warlock said with an utmost seriousness in his voice. Regardless, a small number of students thought that it was a joke and laughed. For about five seconds, before they too realized that the headmaster was not at all joking.

"Is he serious?" Harry asked Flora, who was sitting next to him. "He let something that can kill us into the castle?" The youthful witch shrugged.

"I don't know, but he sounds pretty serious." She replied. "And, whatever that mysterious 'painful death' is, it is clearly put there to guard something… I wonder what is hidden in that corridor..." A light punch to her shoulder from her twin interrupted her from finishing her line of thoughts. "Hey, it's not like I'm saying that we should go investigate." Flora tried to defend herself. "I'm just wondering what could be valuable enough to require such a dangerous protector."

"I'm more concerned with the fact that the headmaster thought it would be wise to have something like that around the school." Harry said. "What if whatever is guarding that corridor gets out and starts attacking students?" He asked. "If he's trying to protect something really valuable, shouldn't he have kept it somewhere deep in the bowels of Gringotts? Yes, there was a successful break in this summer, but, still, there are no recorded instances of someone managing to actually steal something from the goblins in like two centuries." The young Potter was about to say something else, but the Great Hall descended into a cacophony of voices as the students started singing the Hogwarts' school song, each to his or her own tune.

Eventually, when the Weasley twins, who were singing along to a very slow funeral march, finished singing, and everyone in the Great Hall clapped, Dumbledore doing so the loudest.

"Ah, music." He said, wiping a fake tear from his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" And thus the feast was over. Harry, Flora and Hestia rose from the table and joined their housemates, who were leaving the Great Hall for the Slytherin dungeon. Alas, it wasn't time for them to relax and enjoy the rest of their first evening back at school just yet: professor Snape was going to give his own welcoming speech, and that was an event they weren't allowed to miss...

 **~/ *** \~**

Professor Snape's speech was more or less identical to the one Harry remembered from the previous year. At least until the Potions Master got to the policy enacted within the Slytherin dungeon this last spring:

"...And, finally, I would like to remind everyone that, in accordance with the policy enacted at the end of the previous academic year, the usage of derogatory language towards those of lesser social or political standing will no longer be tolerated within these halls. The offending parties will be punished severely." Snape promised.

"So, you are saying that no longer can call mudbloods 'mudbloods'?" Draco asked loudly, almost interrupting the professor.

"Exactly." The head of Slytherin replied simply as he sent a glare at the blond boy, making it clear that he was not happy with his impatience and lack of courtesy. "I shall overlook this one, Mr. Malfoy, but don't think I will be this lenient in the future." The Malfoy heir was certainly not happy to hear this as he 'exploded' a moment later:

"This is bullshit!" He exclaimed. "How could the Noble house of Slytherin be so overrun by mudblood lovers and blood-traitors? Just wait till my father hears about this unforgivable insult to the legacy of the great Salazar Slytherin!" A few people around the common room nodded in agreement with young Draco, but the majority didn't share the sentiment.

"Be quiet, Malfoy." Adrian Pucey, one of the Slytherin chasers, barked as he stood up from the armchair he had been sitting in. "I, too, am not a fan of this policy." He said while shooting a glare at Harry. "But as it was explained to me this summer, this is actually a valuable lesson to all of us who ain't content with living their lives as worthless mediocrities."

"And what lesson would it be, Mr. Pucey?" The Hogwarts' Potions Master asked with a fake curiosity, while a number of students were suddenly playing much closer attention to what was going on.

"That we can't always have the freedom to express what we think about people. The last thing you want is to insult someone who is more powerful than you, especially when you need something from them..."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Draco said loudly as he took a step towards the older boy, his two flunkies trying their best to look intimidating - something that clearly wasn't working. "There is no way filthy muggles can be more powerful than us, wizards of pure blood!" Adrian sent them a glare, making all three cow and take a step back.

"Who said anything about muggles, Malfoy?" He asked. "We don't like, say, professor Dumbledore, but that doesn't make him any less the most powerful wizard alive that he is. If you ever need anything from him, I doubt you will be anything but the image of politeness while he's within earshot." Draco shrugged.

"Yeah, we all know that the muggle-loving fool is powerful and all, but what does this all have to do with us not being allowed to tell the mudbloods that they are nothing but worthless trash?"

"A detention, Mr. Malfoy?" Professor Snape asked smoothly. "Perhaps, some cauldron scrubbing will teach you to abide the rules?"

"What?! You can't do that, professor!" The blonde shouted. "I'm the heir to Malfoy fortune; I can call those dirty mudbloods whatever I want!" The Potions Master, however, wasn't at all impressed by this. And he didn't hesitate to make it known:

"Another detention then, Mr. Malfoy? Let's see if this can correct your attitude." It took Draco, whose face was now red with anger, a few seconds to come up with a response:

"My father will hear about it!" He 'threatened' rather pathetically - something that did absolutely nothing to improve his image.

" _Stupid brat, thinks that the world owes him just because his sire has some gold. I would never pick a little worthless shite like this as a student of mine._ " Harry, who has been silently observing the spectacle unfolding in front of him from an armchair next to the ever-silent portrait of Salazar Slytherin, suddenly heard an unfamiliar, slightly hissing voice. Almost jumping out of his seat, the young Potter looked around, trying to find the speaker. Alas, there was no one… Except for the portrait, who was currently looking with contempt in the direction of Mr. Malfoy. Then, Salazar's portrait noticed Harry looking at it. " _A speaker? How curious._ "

" _Uhm… Excuse me, sir?_ " The young Potter asked.

" _Yes._ " Salazar said, nodding to himself. " _Definitely a speaker._ " He then fell silent, leaving Harry to wonder what he was talking about. A speaker? The green-eyed youth had no idea what that meant. And he couldn't come up with any answers as the the common room suddenly became completely silent. Something must have happened there… Turning around Harry saw that pretty much everyone was staring at him.

"What?" He asked, not really understanding what was going on.

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	15. The Aftermath of Revelation

Here is the fifteenth chapter, folks! Enjoy!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **Thundramon** , an imaginary one? And, yes, that's one of the great many things the yaoi fangirls would love to see.  
 **Vivid Snare** , **Pirouette Prisoner** , **Dzerx** , **doctor of supreme awesomeness** , **The Richmaster** , **city bookworm** , **ObsessedWithHPFanFic** , **keyblademeister88** , **jamnaz79** , **kalerya** , **TheGreatBubbaJ** , **Necrogod** , **The Sinful** , **Guest** , **Digitize27** , **chc91776** , **mwinter1** , **Le Diablo Blanc2** , **Gigssy** , **Nyalest** , **anarion87** , **JPElles** , **Fox Boss** , **Noble Korhedron** , **monkiepawn** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **llIMagic** , it felt good enough to me. And, the portrait is going to play a role of some importance in the future, so...  
 **Wyrtha** , unlike Hermione, Ron has brothers, who attend Hogwarts. And twins are actually somewhat friendly with Harry. So, it's not that far-fetched to think that Ron would ask them (or Percy) about Harry the first chance he gets once he learns that they've met Harry.  
 **magitech** , no, this is not the last you hear of Hermione in this story. But, worry not, she is going to be just a recurring background character or something like that. As for how Crabbe and Goyle manage to get themselves sorted into Slytherin... That's one of the great mysteries of the Potterverse.  
 **jrock919** , I have no reason for Lucius come to Hogwarts at this time, but Harry is going to ask him that question regardless (via an owl). As for character bashing... I won't write bashing for the sake of bashing, but...  
 **Auspicious Orangutan** , there is a couple of decent stories that feature the Carrow twins, but, certainly, not enough.  
 **birdwoman95** , thanks. I too am not a great fan of super!character stories. That said, Harry really should've been much better than JKR made him be in the books.  
 **Gabriel Herrol** , no, but that doesn't stop him from thinking he has. It's Draco "wait till my father hears of this" Malfoy we're talking about here.  
 **Harriverse** , I actually haven't decided which house to put Hermione into. In the books, she got herself sorted into Gryffindor because she believed it to be the best house, and there aren't many reasons for her to change her opinion here. Regardless, her role here is that of a background character, so, does it even really matter?  
 **VonPelt** , thank you. And, I think, I've read a few Slytherin!Harry stories that we're full of overused cliches, but, yeah, such stories are like super-rare...  
 **Xyoras** , no, there will be no basilisk attacks this year.

 *** AN**: Great thanks to my friend **Remilia - The Scarlet Moon** for his help in polishing this chapter.

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
" _parseltongue_ "  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text_

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon  
Chapter XV: The Aftermath of Revelation**

In what resembled the events of the previous year, Flora and Hestia were the ones to explain Harry what was going on. Of course, this time he wasn't as unlearned about the world he now was a part of - he knew about parseltongue, the magical language of serpents - it was just… It never occurred to him that during his short 'conversation' with Salazar Slytherin's portrait he spoke anything but plain English. But he did. And people in the common room heard it.

And their opinions on the matter were quite divided. The children from the dark families, the ones who honestly believed in absolute superiority of the pure-blood wizards, were less than happy with this development and now disdained Harry because they believed him to be unworthy of the ability Salazar Slytherin was renown for. Young heir Malfoy was a vocal supporter of this group. On the other hand, the half-bloods were now cautious or even fearful towards him, afraid that he might 'drop the charade' and join the merry band of pure-blood supremacists. Those groups, thankfully, weren't very numerous. The majority of Slytherin students was merely curious and wanted to know why a Potter - someone whose family had no known ties to the Slytherin bloodline - turned out to be a parselmouth.

Of course, news as exciting as this just couldn't stay secret for long. And having had some experience with the Hogwarts rumor mill the previous year, Harry knew that sooner or later everyone in the castle would know that he could speak parseltongue. He just didn't expect that it would happen _before_ he even left the Slytherin common room the very next morning. Understandably, the young Potter wasn't at all happy about this.

Indeed, the moment he walked into the Great Hall to get some breakfast - as well as his timetable for the semester - he was greeted by not-at-all-subtle whispers and numerous curious looks and fearful or downright hateful glares from whichever students of the other three houses were already present in the Great Hall. And, unlike how things were in Slytherin, those simply curious about his parseltongue ability were a minority here…

This sudden shift in the student body's attitude towards him, however, didn't affect Harry all that much. He was bothered by the sudden distrust and suspicion from the people who used to be friendly towards him before, of course, but this all was just a more extreme version of what happened a year ago when he unexpectedly ended up under the green-and-silver banner of Slytherin. Paying no attention to those glares was not too hard for him.

Harry had finished his breakfast pretty early, so, once professor Snape handed him his timetable, he excused himself from the table and left for the Slytherin dungeons: he needed to pack his school bag for the day. And that's when trouble found him. Just as he was passing through the Great Hall's doors he practically ran into Ronald Weasley. The red-haired boy clearly had slept in and now was in a great hurry to get some food before the breakfast was over. It took him a moment or two to realize who was in front of him, but once he did…

"Get out of my way, slimy snake!" He said, his voice somewhere between a hiss and a growl, while trying to push Harry to the side. And since Harry wasn't expecting this, he ended up getting thrown into the doorjamb.

"Careful there, Weasley." A fourth-year Hufflepuff who was about to leave the Great Hall himself said. "You better not rile Potter, or he'll put a curse you or something. Haven't you heard, he's a parselmouth." Apparently, this was the first time Ron heard this. And now that he learned this, his dislike of anything associated with Slytherin went into overdrive:

"What?! Why you?!..." He shouted, unable to even come up with words to express what he was feeling at the moment. Grabbing Harry by the collar of his robes, the young Weasley overwhelmed whatever defenses the green-eyed wizard managed to muster and slammed him back into the door post. "I'm gonna make you regret ever being born, you filthy beast!" He roared as he raised his fist for a strike, his anger allowing him to continue overpower slightly-larger Slytherin boy.

"Mr. Weasley." Professor Snape said, suddenly appearing behind the enraged redhead. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for attacking a fellow student." There, the Potions Master made a small pause for dramatic effect, before adding: "And another ten for doing so with your fists. Now, release Mr. Potter and get to your table, before I make you polish the cauldrons for the next week." Grumbling under his breath about the unfairness of it all, Ron nevertheless did as told.

"This is not over, Potter." He said, spitting Harry's name out like it was a wad of the foulest bile. "I'll make you pay for turning on the Light." And with that, he removed himself towards the Gryffindor table.

"Now, Mr. Potter." Snape continued. "You'll be serving a detention with me tonight. Your failure to defend yourself against ruffians like Mr. Weasley presents Slytherin as weak. We can't have that." Harry didn't agree with this detention - being punished for being a victim was totally not fair - but he knew better than to argue with his head of the house, especially when he was agitated like this. "Why did you not defended yourself, Potter? Surely you aren't as pathetic as to not being able to deal with a single worthless brat like Weasley?" The Potions Master asked then.

"His attack caught me by surprise, Sir." Harry replied quietly.

"Do you want another detention, Potter?" Snape hissed, clearly restraining himself from raising his voice. "A Slytherin should always be prepared."

"Yes, S-Sir." Was all that the green-eyed youth could say in response.

"Good." The Slytherin head of the house said. "Now get out of my sight, Potter, and hope you don't find yourself in any more trouble, or so help me..." Nodding, Harry did his best to make himself scarce as he continued on his way back to the Slytherin dormitories. He still had classes today that he needed to get ready for...

* * *

The rest of the day, thankfully, went by rather uneventfully for Harry, as least as far as his parselmouth situation went. There were no further attacks against him, though the majority of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs as well as some Ravenclaws did their very best to turn him into ashes with their glares. They also said some less-than-pleasant things about him behind his back, but the young Potter knew better than to let those get a rise out of him.

His detention with Professor Snape wasn't all that eventful either. The man asked him why he was there and, once satisfied with his answer, told him to scrub three big and fairly dirty cauldrons clean. Without magic, of course. It was, without a question, a boring and monotonous task, but the young Potter didn't find it to be especially difficult. He did grow up under the Dursleys' roof, after all, so he wasn't a stranger to physical labor…

Once Professor Snape was satisfied with the results of his work, Harry was dismissed and immediately made his way back to the Slytherin dormitories. There, he joined Flora and Hestia in the far corner of the common room and spent the rest of his evening enjoying their company… The relative peace and quiet made him hope that tomorrow would be just as peaceful as this evening.

Of course, the life had other plans for him… As soon as the owl post began arriving the next morning, a huge number of owls headed for him. Harry barely got a chance to wonder what was going on before he found himself swarmed by the birds as they dive-bombed him with their burdens. A couple of feathered menaces then mucked him by impudently stealing pieces of bacon from his plate…

This chaos lasted for few minutes and, once it was finally over, the Potter scion had a haphazard pile of envelopes sitting on the table in front him. Most of those letters appeared to be normal at the first glance, but he could also spy at least half a dozen of angry-crimson envelopes that could only be Howlers - and thanks to the Weasley twins, he knew what those things were... Someone people, it seemed, really wanted him to hear how much they despised him just because he could talk to snakes.

Harry, of course, wasn't the only one to notice these Howlers...

"Potter." A grumpy seventh year student sitting a couple of seats down the table called. "I'm in no mood to listen to incessant yelling right now, do something about those things." He 'requested', nodding towards the crimson envelope that was currently sizzling on top of Harry's porridge.

"I wish I knew how to." The green-eyed wizard replied honestly. The upperclassman let out a tired sigh before drawing his wand and pointing it at the pile of letters. Whispering something under his breath, he made the Howlers - all seven of them - rise into air, where they burst into magical flames, burning into nothingness in a matter of seconds.

"There." The older boy said, returning his wand to its holster.

"Cool." Harry breathed out. There was a short pause, he asked: "Could you please teach me that?" Then, after a few moments, he added hopefully as he eyed one suspiciously-thick envelope: "And maybe some other useful spells to deal with unwanted mail?" The seventh-year let out a short, barking laugh,

"Knowledge has its price, don't you know it, Potter?" Harry gave him a nod.

"What do you want in return?"

* * *

As it turned out, not all of Harry's hate mail contained just words. Several (anonymous, of course) letters had some weak curses imbued into their parchment, and one envelope had an ounce or so of bubotuber pus in it. Opening any of those letters carelessly would've ended in a visit to Madam Pomfrey's.

This was quite a serious situation, so, as soon as the breakfast was was, the young Potter sought out his head of the house. Professor Snape, after personally examining the letters in question and confirming that they indeed were booby-trapped, told him that he'd inform the headmaster about this. The Potions Master also advised Harry to report this incident to the DMLE.

The green-eyed youth agreed that this was a wise thing to do. However, since he still had classes to attend, he had to postpone sending the Aurors a missive until afternoon. And, speaking of letters he needed to send… He still needed to ask Lord Malfoy what debt Draco had been talking about back on the train. He meant to do it as soon as he had a chance to stop by the owlry, but it kinda slipped off his mind thanks to the mess he found himself in due to his newly-discovered parselmouth ability.

 **~/ *** \~**

It wasn't until Wednesday afternoon that the second year Slytherins had their first DADA lesson with Professor Quirrell. And while Harry couldn't say that he was a bad teacher - the man definitely knew his subject well - he didn't quite measure up to Professor Armstrong. And then there was his constant stuttering… It turned his otherwise pretty good lecture into a mess that was a chore to listen to. Harry was actually relieved when the bell finally rang.

"Mr. Potter, can I ask you t-to stay behind for a m-moment?" Professor Quirrell asked just as Harry was about to step out of the classroom. Letting out a small sigh under his breath, the green-eyed boy nodded to Flora and Hestia, silently telling them not to wait for him. Then, he turned around to face the turban-wearing wizard.

"What can I do for you, Professor?" He asked.

"You see, Mr. Potter, certain rumors circulation around the castle have sparked m-my curiosity…" There was a short pause, before he continued: "They say, you can speak p-parseltongue, the magical language of serpents." Harry gave him a careful nod. "This... development, shall we say, interests me g-greatly, Mr. Potter. I'm knowledgeable in many subjects, and p-pureblood lineages is among them. Parseltongue, at least in Europe, has never been recorded outside of the Slytherin family and their descendants. And t-there is no known connection b-between Potters and the Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin. Thus, I'm understandably curious about h-how you came to possess this rare gift, Mr. Potter."

"I… I don't know, sir." Harry replied honestly. There was a significant pause, before he continued: "This is a pure speculation on my part, but… It is possible that I actually got it from my mother." Professor Quirrell raised an eyebrow.

"How s-so, Mr. Potter? I was under impression that s-she was a muggleborn."

"Officially." The green-eyed youth confirmed. "But it not impossible that she came from a long line of squibs instead. And then, when the Dark Lord hit me with his curse, something happened and activated my parseltongue ability." He too was curious about how he came to possess a trait so strongly associated with the Slytherin bloodline and tried to dig up some information that could help him solve this mystery. Alas, so far he found nothing, leaving this to be his best guess about the origins of his 'gift'. Professor Quirrell thought about it for a few seconds, before nodding.

"Yes, this d-does sound plausible. Unfortunately, I don't think it is p-possible to confirm your theory." He said. "Thank you for s-satisfying my curiosity, Mr. Potter." He added then, dismissing the young wizard. Harry gave him a quick nod of acknowledgement, before hastily leaving the classroom.

Watching the young Potter disappear out of his host's sight, Lord Voldemort pondered what the boy had just said. On one hand, he didn't want to admit that Lily Potter might have actually been more than a simple mudblood. Especially, he really didn't want to believe that she might have been a distant descendant of Salazar Slytherin via some squib that had been exiled into the muggle world. On the other hand… He couldn't deny that the boy's theory actually made some sense.

And that was quite an unsettling thought for the currently-disembodied Dark Lord. After all, if there indeed existed wizards and witches who, despite being born of muggle filth, carried gifts of ancient Magical blood, then, a few of them might have been purged along with those unworthy of Magic during his rise to the power... No, Lord Voldemort resolved firmly. The boy had to be wrong! There was no way in Hell a spawn of filthy muggles could be a bearer of a distinguished wizarding bloodline!

This, of course, left the question of how the boy could speak the noble language of parseltongue, but the Dark Lord was sure there was a reasonable explanation to this that didn't require the brat to be a secret descendant of Salazar Slytherin.

 **~/ *** \~**

The next afternoon saw Harry sitting in his favorite corner of the Slytherin common room, doing his best to finish his Transfiguration homework. His progress, however, was rather slow as his mind kept wandering off the subject of animate-to-inanimate transfiguration. And during one such time he was thinking about something other than his homework, a thought occurred to him: Salazar's portrait might be able to give him some insight into how he came to be a parselmouth. So, pushing his parchment with his half-finished essay away, he stood up, drawing the twins' attention.

"Harry?" Hestia asked, looking up from her own homework. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Yeah." He said with a nod. "It just occurred to me that if I want some answers about my 'gift', then there is probably no better person to ask than Lord Salazar Slytherin himself." The girls exchanged a glance, for a moment wondering how he was going to pull that off. Then it dawned upon them.

"Oh, I see..." Flora said as she too stood up, her sister following her lead a moment later. "Let us be there with you when you talk to Lord Slytherin, Harry." The green-eyed wizard responded with a shrug as he approached Salazar Slytherin's portrait.

"Um… Excuse me, sir?" He addressed the man, while doing his best to ignore the attention the people in the common room were paying to him right now… The portrait glanced at him for a brief moment, before returning its attention to whatever it had been doing before. "Sir?" Harry repeated, this time getting absolutely no reaction from the painting. "Lord Slytherin?" Still nothing.

"Maybe he doesn't understand you?" Flora suggested in a whisper. Harry shook his head.

"No, he can definitely understand what people are saying." He said, remembering how Malfoy trying to use his father's name to weasel out of a detention Professor Snape gave prompted the portrait to break its silence. "But he doesn't really talk to us, the students, does he?"

"Well..." Hestia began thoughtfully. "As far as we know, this portrait of Salazar Slytherin can only speak in parseltongue. Perhaps, it won't answer unless you yourself talk the language?" She suggested. This time, the corners of the portrait's mouth twitched upwards in something akin to a smile, suggesting that Hestia's guess was spot on.

"I think, you're right." Harry said, having noticed the portrait's smile. Then he let out a sigh: he had no idea what he needed to do to actually speak parseltongue. The last - and only - time he did, it was an accident, something done without him even knowing about it when he heard Lord Slytherin's portrait speak the magical language.

A few long moments passed, and then an idea popped into Harry's head. If parseltongue was the language of snakes, then, perhaps, a snake might help him speak it? Hopefully, an imaginary one will do… Closing his eyes, he did his best to visualize a snake. It wasn't exactly an easy task for him since he had never seen a real snake up close before, but after a little while the green-eyed wizard was pretty sure he had a pretty good image of a serpent in his mental view. Thus, he made another attempt to communicate with the Salazar's portrait.

"Lord Slytherin?" He said. Next to him, Flora shook his head. He was still speaking English. Frowning, Harry did his best to concentrate on the image of a snake he had conjured in his mand, and tried again. "Sir?" Alas, the result was much the same. Apparently, there was more to the trick of speaking parseltongue than simply imagining a snake... Letting out a deep sigh, Harry decided that he needed to master his new-found talent a bit better before attempting to converse with Salazar Slytherin's portrait again. Bowing the painting a goodbye, he turned around and found a very smug Malfoy heir standing in his way.

"Not so special after all, eh, Potter?" Draco spoke with a very prominent sneer in his voice. "I'm not surprised, though. A mere half-blood like you is not worthy of having the gift of the Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin."

"Oh, c'mon, Malfoy, everyone knows, you're just jealous." Flora retorted as she pulled Harry as her sister past the blonde boy..

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	16. A Conversation with Salazar Slytherin

And here comes the sixteenth chapter, folks! Enjoy!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **Calypto** , **Darth-Vulturnus** , **FailedKeikaku** , **monkiepawn** , and others, who think that Harry was off during the previous chapter. You might be right, but remember, what he had discovered. I really doubt that you would've been completely unfazed by the revelation that you are likely related to the worst terrorist of your country and the killer of your parents. And most people now hate you because of that. Once such shock wears off, Harry will be back to norm.  
 **wahyubison** , **mwinter1** , **Wyrtha** , **rickyrules1998** , **Dzerx** , **magitech** , **The Sinful** , **KnowPein** , **geekymom** , **The Shadows Mistress** , **kent-jensen** , **ObsessedWithHPFanFic** , **richard333** , **Guest #1** , **Guest #2** , **DarkRavie** , **OldMasterMage** , **JPElles** , thank you for your reviews, folks.  
 **Gabriel Herrol** , **Vixen Uchiha** , **Guest #3** , it's a mistake that evaded both myself and my 'beta' somehow. Has been fixed since then. Thank you for pointing it out.  
 **The Richmaster** , what has a poor crow done to deserve such a terrible fate?  
 **mizzrazz72** , this chapter should hold the answers.  
 **setokayba2n** , perhaps, one should really inform him about that.  
 **monkiepawn** , traumatic experiences are often a trigger to awakening some special powers, both in and out of 'verse. And what can more traumatic that being hit with the Killing Curse?  
 **Harriverse** , hehe.  
 **ThunderSphinx** , nope, sorry, but this Harry won't be on the Slytherin team. He likes flying, but has no interest in playing Quidditch.

 *** AN**: Great thanks to my friend **Remilia - The Scarlet Moon** for his help in polishing this chapter.

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
" _parseltongue_ "  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text_

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon  
Chapter XVI: A Conversation with Salazar Slytherin**

Having finished all of his homework by Saturday mid-afternoon, Harry chose to devote the rest of the day to finding a way to master his gift of parseltongue. He had come up with a few ideas, but none of them were all that great. The best one he managed to invent actually boiled down to him getting a bunch of snakes and talking to them until he somehow knew how to switch between speaking English and parseltongue at will… Yeah, not the greatest of ideas, but the young Potter decided to go with it anyway since he really couldn't think of anything better.

Thus, he found himself in need of live snakes. Or, at least, ones that could talk. And since he'd rather avoid going into the Forbidden Forest, Harry decided that he needed a spell of some sort that would let him summon a snake whenever he needed one. And so, he was off to the Hogwarts Library.

Madam Pince raised an eyebrow when he asked for books on inanimate-to-animate transfiguration and animal conjuration - apparently, she thought that those were a bit too advanced for a second-year student like him - but nevertheless gave him the books he requested. Thanking her for her help, Harry took the tomes and retired into the reading-room.

Finding the necessary spells turned out to be not at all hard. There actually was a spell specifically for summoning snakes, **Serpensortia**. Researching a couple of alternatives so that he had some fallback in case the **Serpensortia** spell turned out to be ill-suited for his idea for whatever reason took him a little longer, but by the dinner time Harry was pretty sure he had everything he needed to start working on his gift of parseltongue.

* * *

Harry peeked into the classroom he had appropriated as his personal hideout and Potions laboratory the previous year. It looked exactly like he remembered it to be, meaning that the rather-primitive wards he had set up were doing their job well and kept the people randomly wandering through the castle from finding this place. Good. Waving his wand to vanish the dust that has gathered over the past few months, the scion of House Potter plopped down on a sofa. A few seconds of gathering his thoughts later, he raised his wand again and tried the snake-summoning spell…

" **Serpensortia!** " Much to his surprise it worked perfectly right away and now there was a fairly-large, dirty-brown adder sitting in the middle of the room. The snake tasted the air with its forked tongue a couple of times, before turning its head towards its summoner.

" _Stupid human, what have you summoned this one for?_ " It hissed.

" _Hey!_ " Harry hissed indignantly, his pre-prepared greeting for the summoned serpent instantly forgotten. In response, the snake made something that could've been a bow.

" _A speaker? Please forgive this one for its rudeness. How can this one be of an assistance to you?_ " It was quite fortunate that this snake held those who can speak parseltongue in esteem - otherwise, convincing it to help him master his gift would have been quite a task if its original 'greeting' was of any indication.

" _I'm just learning how to speak in your language and needed someone to talk to._ " He explained. The adder flagged a little, apparently wishing it was summoned for another purpose. Still, it didn't ignore him or deny his request.

" _Very well, speaker, this one is listening. What do you want to talk about?_ " And so Harry began conversing with the slithering reptile. And while he was doing that, he also tried his best to get a feeling of Magic that 'translated' whatever he wanted to say into parseltongue. He hoped that once he knew what this Magic felt was like, he might be able to invoke it - and, thus, speak the language of serpents - at will.

* * *

It took him a couple of days, but, eventually, Harry started to make some actual progress. At very least, he now could initiate conversations with the summoned snakes by himself and without needing to constantly keep the reptile in front of his eyes. And while he knew that he still had a long road ahead of him, the green-eyed wizard still believed that he had mastered his gift enough to move on to the step of his 'plan'. Which was learning to speak parseltongue to other people, eventually without any snakes involved.

Thankfully for him, Flora and Hestia were quite eager to help him there. And thus Harry brought them to his place the next afternoon.

"And here it is, my secret laboratory." Harry said dramatically as he showed the twins his hideout. There was a small pause, before he continued in a much more demure tone: "I know, it's not much, but..." The girls gave him a smile.

"Don't worry, Harry, it looks quite cozy." Hestia said. "You've done a great job renovating it." The young wizard responded with an embarrassed laugh.

"Anyway." He continued. "Shall we begin?" Once the girls nodded, Harry drew his wand and cast the summoning spell. In an instant, a large black snake appeared in front of him, startling the Flora and Hestia a little. " _Ignore the girls._ " He ordered the reptile immediately, before it even had a chance do anything at all… Upon hearing his command, the snake turned its attention to him.

" _As you wish, speaker._ " It finally hissed after a few moments.

"Wow, that was cool Harry." Flora said. Then, she added. "Still, hearing you hiss like that is a little creepy." Hestia nodded in hesitant agreement with her sister. The green-eyed wizard responded with an uneasy smile.

"Anyway." He spoke then, breaking the awkward silence that fell over the room. "Let's see if I can speak parseltongue when talking to you, shall we?" The Carrow twins nodded, eager to see the progress their friend has made in mastering his gift… Meanwhile, Harry closed his eyes and drew upon his Magic. "Am I speaking parseltongue now?" He asked hopefully. Though, by the time those words left his mouth, he could already tell that he didn't. The girls just confirmed his 'guess'.

"No, Harry." Hestia said. Letting out a small sigh, the green-eyed snake-speaker turned his attention to the summoned serpent.

" _But I'm speaking the language right now, aren't I?_ " He asked the reptile.

" _You do, speaker._ " The snake confirmed. Then, a moment later, it added: " _Having some trouble introducing the other two-legged ones to the glory of the language, inept speaker?_ "

"Alright, one more time." Harry said, ignoring the reptile's witty remark for the moment. Falling silent for a few moments he concentrated hard on speaking parseltongue. Then, he tried again: " _And what about now?_ " He asked.

" _You are still speaking the language, speaker._ " The snake told him.

"You did it, Harry!" Hestia exclaimed, confirming that he indeed spoke parseltongue just now. The green-eyed wizard gave her and Flora a bright smile in response, happy that his hard work bore fruit. Still, he quietly acknowledged that he needed much more practice in using his gift, before he was ready to talk to Salazar Slytherin's portrait again. Oh well…

 **~/ *** \~**

On Thursday morning, Harry received a missive from the DMLE. According to it, their investigation was progressing reasonably well and they've already caught the witch that sent him an envelope full of bubotuber pus. The young Potter wasn't sure he agreed with the punishment she was given - he felt that it wasn't serious enough - but it was still better than nothing. As for the authors of the cursed letters… Well, According to the same missive, the aurors were still trying to find them.

Suddenly, a commotion of some sort broke out at the Gryffindor table. Turning his attention away from the letter in his hands, Harry rose slightly out of his seat in hopes of having a better look at what was going on there. And what he saw didn't please him any: apparently, Malfoy thought that it was okay for him to pick on people from the other houses.

It was a bit hard to tell what exactly was happening from across the Great Hall, but to Harry it looked like Draco had taken something from the Longbottom heir and refused to return the object peacefully. And having being bullied like that more than a few times by Dudley and his gang throughout his days in the muggle primary school, Harry was silently cheering for the Gryffindors that rose to the defense of their housemate.

The situation at the Gryffindor table, however, was quickly spiralling out of control and it looked like a fight could break out at any moment now. Thankfully, Professor McGonagall intervened before it could come to that. She quickly made Malfoy return the object he had taken and then gave him a well-deserved dressing down - at very least, Draco was quite unhappy with whatever the Transfiguration Mistress said to him - before sending him and his two flunkies back to the Slytherin table.

There was no warm welcome waiting for him there, however. Harry in particular was giving him a glare full of contempt. And he wasn't the only one. Indeed, for one reason or another, the majority of Slytherins were less than happy with the Malfoy heir right now. And if Draco thought that his whining about the detention Professor McGonagall gave him being totally unfair would earn him his housemates' sympathy, he was sorely mistaken.

* * *

By the time afternoon rolled around, Harry had mostly put the morning incident out of his mind. That, however, changed when the sixth-year male prefect stomped into the Slytherin common room cursing Malfoy's name loudly. Against his better judgement, Harry decided to ask him what was going on.

"That motherfucking idiot…" The prefect hissed irately. "I swear, he must have slug shit for brains!" Taking a deep breath to calm down a little, he continued: "Madam Hooch told everyone to fucking stay on the ground while she took Longbottom to the Hospital wing. And what does the blond shitstain do? He takes the remembrall Longbottom lost and fucking flies to hide it in a tree. And, like the utter retard he is, gets caught by a bloody professor while in the act." As the prefect explained the situation to him, Harry felt anger, hot like fiery lava, rise within him.

"I hope he somehow gets to the common room in one piece." He said in a low, dangerous voice. "I'd like to have words with him." The prefect gave him a crooked smile.

"You do that, Potter." He said. "Just don't go too far - I'd rather not explain Lord Malfoy why I was looking the other way while his _dear son_ was cursed like the little shitstain he is." The young parselmouth raised an eyebrow in surprise when he heard this: he remembered this prefect to be among those who fought against his policy last year. The older boy noticed his confusion. "Listen, Potter." He said. "I may not like you very much, but you give your everything to Slytherin, and I appreciate that… Malfoy, meanwhile, is just a spoiled little boy. He is yet to do anything to earn his place in this house."

"T-Thank you." Harry breathed out, not knowing what else to say. He was about to return to his seat and get back to doing his homework, when common room's door opened and one disgruntled Draco Malfoy tromped in, complaining loudly about the punishment he got for the stunt he did during the flying lesson as well as cursing Weasley for getting him caught. "Malfoy, a word if you will." Harry said as moved to stand in the blonde's path.

"Out of my way, Potter. I'm in no mood to deal with the likes of you right now." The said blond wizard said, glaring at the boy in front of him.

"I think, you misunderstood me, Malfoy." Harry pressed. "This wasn't a request. It was an order."

"I don't take orders from the likes of you. Now get out of my way!" And with that Draco tried to push past the 'obstacle' in front of him. The green-eyed parselmouth, however, didn't let him to.

"You're going to make an exception then." He hissed angrily as he gave the blonde a glare potent enough to root him to the floor. There was a bit of a pause, before Harry continued: "You've been bad, Malfoy. Your actions today have brought great shame to the house of Slytherin. Thieves and idiots are not the people who deserve a place in these sacred halls." Harry actually hated talking pompously like that, but the circumstances called for it, so...

"How… How dare you?! I'll…" Draco exploded, his hand going for his wand. His plan to curse the stupid half-blood bastard in front of him, however, had to be put on hold when he saw the glowing tip of Potter's wand appeared just an inch away from his forehead.

"I dare very well." Harry hissed in response.

"You can't hurt me, Potter." Draco proclaimed, doing his best to sound as confident as he could with a wand pointed between his eyes. "Your debt to the Noble House of Malfoy will not let you."

"So..." The young parselmouth said, giving him a rather terrifying smile. "Not only you are a thief and an idiotic bully, Malfoy, but a liar as well?" Before the terrified blonde could ask what he was talking about, Harry continued: "There are no outstanding debts between myself and the House Malfoy; that's what the letter with the seal of the Lord Malfoy - your father's seal - tells me."

"I…" Draco began, desperately trying to think of something that could save his hide.

"You what?" Harry interrupted him, still too angry to actually listen to what the blonde in front of him had to say. "Going to threaten me with your father? Or, perhaps, Professor Snape? I wonder, how thrilled they'll be to save your sorry ass from the mess you yourself created by being a thieving, lying, idiot…"

At this point, Draco became painfully aware of two things. One, Potter had him cornered and none of his usual ways to weasel out of trouble worked on him. And, two, the people in the Slytherin common room were not on his side. If anything, they were laughing at him.

"So…" Harry continued. "Are you going to think on the errors of your behavior yourself, Malfoy? Or, do you, perhaps, require some _encouragement_?" He asked, reminding the blonde of the fact that he still had a wand pointed between his eyes.

"Fine, you win, Potter. Now, get out of my way." Draco growled, reluctantly accepting his defeat, before stepping around Harry and quickly disappearing into the boys' dormitories. Letting out a sigh, the green-eyed parselmouth holstered his wand: for whatever reason, giving Malfoy the well-deserved dressing down didn't feel anywhere as good as he thought it would.

 **~/ *** \~**

Another couple of days passed before Harry felt like he had mastered his gift of parseltongue enough to attempt another conversation with Salazar Slytherin's portrait. Even then, he'd rather do it without a big audience listening to every word he'd say. Thus, he waiting until most people retired for the night, before approaching the portrait.

" _Good evening, M'Lord._ " Harry greeted the Hogwarts' Founder.

" _Welcome back, young speaker._ " Salazar greeted him back. " _I see, you've managed to greatly improve your skill in parseltongue since the last time we spoke._ " The green-eyed wizard gave him a nod of confirmation. " _I imagine, you have quite a few questions you'd like to ask._ " The painting said next, receiving another nod from its interlocutor.

" _I'd like to know more about my gift of parseltongue, sir. How do I have it?_ " Harry asked. " _I know that neither my parents, nor my grandparents weren't speakers… Is it possible that parseltongue skipped a few generations before suddenly resurfacing in me?_ " The Lord Slytherin looked thoughtful for a couple of seconds, before replying:

" _Yes, that is possible._ " After a moment, he added: " _However, given what I have observed about you, I find that to be a rather unlikely possibility. In my experience, those born a parselmouth never have this much trouble mastering the gift. It is more likely that you, Mr. Potter, got it some other way._ "

" _How so? I thought that parseltongue was a trait unique to the Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin._ " Harry asked, making the portrait let out a laugh.

" _Only in England._ " Salazar replied. " _There was a fairly large wizarding clan in the Buwayhid Emirates [1], the members of which too could speak parseltongue. One of them actually was my Master when I was learning the art of Alchemy. Then, there was a family of speakers that lived in Southern parts of the Umayyad Caliphate [2]. I've also heard rumors about several parselmouths living in Volga Bulgaria [3] and in Bana [4]. And, I'm sure, there were others as well._ "

" _Oh._ " Was all that Harry could say in response to this. " _The books never mentioned that._ "

" _That's hardly surprising. People always glorify their homeland, praising it with or without a reason while neglecting to mention its failings. Claiming famous magical abilities to be unique to native bloodlines is simply another way of doing that._ " Lord Slytherin explained.

" _I see..._ " The young Potter breathed out. " _But if you're right and I wasn't born with the gift, then how come I can speak parseltongue, Sir?_ " He asked then.

" _I might have a few ideas, young speaker._ " The painting replied after being quiet for a couple of seconds. " _Changeling-mages - I believe, they are called animagi nowadays - often gain traits or abilities of their animal. One, whose animal is a snake of some kind, might gain the ability to speak parseltongue._ " Harry shook his head.

" _But I'm not an animagus, Sir._ " He said.

" _Well..._ " Salazar's portrait continued without missing a beat. " _It is also said that a long-term possession by an especially-powerful magical entity might result in the host gaining watered down versions of that entity's abilities._ " Hearing this made the young parselmouth frown: the thought that he might have shared his body with some alien spirit was ...unsettling to say the least.

" _I'm not being possessed either, Sir._ " He replied. Then, a moment later, he added in a slightly-quieter voice: " _At least, I don't think I am. If I were, wouldn't I not be in control of my body or something?_ "

" _Not necessarily._ " Lord Slytherin replied. " _If the possessing entity only wishes to hide and, possibly, replenish its strength, then it won't reveal itself unless it is absolutely necessary._ " Harry's frown deepened. He really wanted to believe that he wasn't and had never been possessed, but, unfortunately, the idea that his ability to speak the language of serpents was a result of such event made a little too much sense to be discarded as unlikely… This didn't go unnoticed by the 'Greatest of the Hogwarts four'. " _If you fear that possession by an entity unknown is indeed the reason why you have the gift of parseltongue, Mr. Potter, I suggest you pay healers or, perhaps, curse-breakers a visit as soon as you have a chance._ " He advised.

" _I will._ " Harry agreed. For a little while neither of them said anything. Then, the young wizard spoke again, changing the topic of the conversation: " _Can I ask you something, Sir? About what you said back on the first night of the academic year._ " The portrait raised an eyebrow, apparently not remember much about that incident. " _It's about you saying that young Mr. Malfoy isn't someone you would've picked as your student._ " The young snake-speaker elaborated.

" _Ah, I see..._ " Salazar replied. " _It is certainly true that I favor students with ambitions and a sharp mind, but there are other qualities that I wish to see in those under my tutelage. And being able to move forward towards one's goals on one's own merits is, without a doubt, one such quality._ " Here he made a small pause, before continuing: " _It is not widely-known, but the House of Slytherin had little more than its Noble status before I became its lord. What you have heard about its greatness is what I've strove for, worked for, and, ultimately, achieved. And this is something I want to see in my students as well: not just ambitions, but also the drive to do one's best to achieve them._ "

" _And seeing others believe that the world owes them because of their name or the money their parents have makes you displeased, because it goes against what you've stood for, Sir?_ " Harry finished for him. The portrait gave him a nod.

" _Yes. You can't truly be a great wizard if you personally have done nothing to earn this greatness._ "

" _I see._ " Just a few moments after the green-eyed parselmouth said that, the clock struck eleven in the evening, reminding him that it was about the time for him to retire for the night… " _And one more question, Sir. Does this all mean that you don't really believe those coming from old magical families to be better than everyone else?_ " In the light of what Salazar's portrait has just revealed, this question suddenly didn't look as dangerous to ask, so Harry decided he needed an answer to it.

" _I never believed in something like that._ " Lord Slytherin replied, his voice suddenly colder than before.

" _But it is said everywhere that you were against allowing muggle-borns into Hogwarts, and..._ " Harry began, but the portrait interrupted him:

" _Yes, that is more or less true._ " Salazar confirmed. " _But certainly not for the reason those fools think._ " The young Potter made an 'Oh' sound as he listened to what the 'Greatest of the Hogwarts Four' had to say: " _Back when Godric, Helga, Rowena and I founded Hogwarts, almost all muggle-borns were peasants. They were dirty, uncultured and illiterate. Not to mention that quite a few of them were indoctrinated by Christianity and believed Magic to be Evil. The latter ones were a danger, while the former… Hogwarts is a school of Magic; don't you think that teaching the kids to wipe their arses instead of Magical Arts would have been a waste of my time? Perhaps, completely denying them indeed was wrong, but..._ " The portrait trailed off here. After a few moments, though, it continued: " _Anyway, from what I hear, things have changed a lot since those days._ " Harry nodded.

" _Yes, they did._ " He confirmed. " _Everyone is taught to read and write now, and bad personal hygiene isn't tolerated well. As for the Church… Well, I don't think there will be any holy wars or witch hunts these days, though crazy fanatics still exist here and there, of course._ "

" _I see… The world has indeed changed greatly since my days._ " Salazar said. And with that the conversation died down again… After a few long seconds of silence, the young Potter decided that this was a good moment to call it a day: it was getting quite late and he still had classes to attend tomorrow.

" _Thank you for this very interesting conversation, Lord Slytherin, but I'm afraid, it's the time for me to retire for the night. I hope that we can speak again._ " He said while giving the portrait a polite bow.

" _It was my pleasure and I'm looking forward to our future conversations; it looks like you have great many interesting things to tell me about the world. It's been such a long time since the last speaker has graced these halls._ " The painting of Salazar Slytherin replied. " _Have a good night, Mr. Potter._ "

* * *

[1] **Buwayhid Emirates** in 10th century occupied territories of modern Kuwait, Iraq and Iran.

[2] **Umayyad Caliphate** in 10th century occupied territories of modern Portugal, Spain and Morocco.

[3] **Volga Bulgaria** is a Bulgar state that existed around the confluence of the Volga and Kama rivers (modern Russia, north of the Samara city).

[4] **Bana Kingdom** is a kingdom that occupied inland territories of India.

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	17. Alliances and Connections

The seventeenth chapter is here for your enjoyment, folks!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **The Shadows Mistress** , **1066wthec** , **The Richmaster** , **DarkRavie** , **setokayba2n** , **jamnaz79** , **ObsessedWithHPFanFic** , **mwinter1** , **Anna** , **Guest #2** , **Charles Ceaser** , **StoneTheLoner** , **princenjgv** , **BeepKeeper** , **JPElles** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **Shinku Ryuuga** , **The Sinful** , I really dislike the usual "muggles killed my X, so I'll hate them" thing that people use as a reason why Salazar was against accepting muggleborn students. As for his speech suddenly getting more 'modern', well, blame me being a lazy ass for it.  
 **Digitize27** , here he is already using it without (active) aid from the horcrux. Getting that abomination removed from his head will not suddenly make him unable to speak parseltongue anymore.  
 **mizzrazz72** , too bad, Draco doesn't like it there...  
 **Wyrtha** , yes, he will try to deal with the horcrux in his head on his own. As for Dumbledore's plans... Who cares about them?  
 **Cateagle** , Vodie is going to have an interesting year as well. I have a few things planned for the snakeface.  
 **VersoVorso** , well, there are some canon events that will happen regardless of where Harry got sorted. But I will try to keep his reactions to those events well in-line with what they should be. So, no sticking wands into trolls' noses or charging at thousand years old basilisk with nothing but a sword here.  
 **Dragon Master Naruto 003** , I think, you'll like this chapter then. ;)  
 **Guest #1** , damn, that was funny!

 *** AN**: Great thanks to my friends **Skelekitty** and **Remilia - The Scarlet Moon** for their help in polishing this chapter.

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
" _parseltongue_ "  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text  
_ **spells**

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon  
Chapter XVII:** **Alliances and Connections**

After a while, people got tired of talking about how Harry was a Slytherin parselmouth and, thus, had to be the next Dark Lord, and moved on to some new and more exciting rumors. This finally gave the green-eyed youth a breathing room and an opportunity to finally approach a few people he'd like to have as his acquaintances without half of their houses rising to preemptively defend them from his 'evilness'.

The first person on that list was Neville Longbottom, a chubby and slightly shy boy with a pet toad that kept running away from him. More importantly, though, Neville was the heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom, the long-standing allies of the Noble House of Potter. Plus, while Harry had no concrete proof yet, the evidence pointed towards the two of them being godbrothers…

"Good morning, heir Longbottom." The green-eyed wizard greeted politely as he came to the Gryffindor table one morning. Neville greeted him back him with a silent nod: it was not polite to talk with one's mouth full. A simple rule of courtesy that _some_ of his dormmates seemed to be unable to remember. Speaking of whom…

"Get lost, slimy snake!" A certain red-haired boy with terrible table manners jumped to his feet, bits of food flying out of his mouth as he yelled. "We don't want to hear a word from a traitor like you!" The 'slimy snake', however, ignored him completely.

"I would like to have a word with. It's about _the Pact_." Harry continued, his words definitely getting attention of the Longbottom heir. "If it's okay with you, let's meet in the Library at - say - five in the afternoon today." Neville nodded.

"Sounds like a plan." He replied.

"Mate, have you lost your mind?!" A certain Weasley exploded. "You can't be serious about accepting this bastard's offer! He's a slimy snake! He'll just curse you! Or… Or… He might **Imperio** you into his evil minion!" Harry leveled a glare at the annoying redhead.

"It is very impolite to butt into others' conversations, Mr. Weasley." He said, his anger barely kept out of his voice. "Especially when you do so to slander people."

"Shut up! Now one asked you, traitorous scum!" Ronald retorted.

"No, you shut up, Ron." The normally shy Longbottom heir _hissed_ dangerously. "I'm getting tired of your irrational hate of all things Slytherin. You act no different from Malfoy." The red-haired boy sputtered uselessly for a few moments, before shrinking away under Neville's pointed glare. "And, heir Potter..." He said next as he turned his attention back to Harry. "I've never thanked you for putting Malfoy in his place, have I?" The green-eyed wizard waved his hand dismissively.

"Heir Malfoy was being an embarrassment to Slytherin with his childish bullying. He had it coming." He said in response. There was a small pause, after which he continued: "So… At five in the afternoon in the Library?" He asked Neville to confirm that they had no misunderstandings about the time and place of their meeting. The Gryffindor boy gave him a nod of confirmation.

* * *

Harry arrived to the Hogwarts' library good ten minutes before the agreed upon time, yet Neville was already there, waiting for him. The two wizards exchanged polite greetings, before retiring to a quiet corner of the library's reading room. Once they were seated, Harry proceeded to cast the strongest privacy charms he knew around their table.

"You wished to talk about the pact between the Houses of Potter and Longbottom?" The shy Gryffindor asked once the other boy finally put his wand down.

"Yes." The green-eyed wizard said with a nod. "I must confess that, having grown up in the muggle world, I was not aware of the pact between our houses until recently. Thus, I ask for forgiveness for any offenses caused by my lack of awareness and express my hopes that the pact of mutual assistance between the Houses of Potter and Longbottom will continue." As Neville gave him a nod, he continued: "I've also sent a formal letter of apology to Lady Dowager, the acting regent of the House Longbottom earlier this afternoon."

"I… I cannot promise you anything, heir Potter, but I'm sure that grandmo-... that regent Longbottom with accept your apologies and that the pact will not be terminated." Neville said.

"Thank you, and, please, call me 'Harry'." The young Slytherin said.

"Then, I insist you call me 'Neville'." The other boy replied.

"Very well, Neville." Harry said. He was about to wrap their little meeting up, when a thought occurred to him: "And… If I may be so forward, can I ask for a favor from you?" As the shy Gryffindor gave him a nod, he continued: "Is it known already, who will be hosting the Yule party this year?"

"Yes, the Noble House of MacMillan will be hosting it this year." Neville replied after thinking about it for a few moments. Harry let out a thoughtful sigh. As far as he knew, Potters never really interacted much with MacMillans, so there weren't any good reasons for him to interact with the heir MacMillan. And, until he actually got his invitation to the Yule party this year, approaching the young Hufflepuff with any request pertaining to the sair party would be a very bad move. Still, the Noble House of MacMillan wasn't one of the so-called 'Dark' families, so, Harry thought, it should be quite possible for him to negotiate an enforcement of his invitation with them - again, assuming they were going to invite him to the party in the first place.

"Thank you." He said. After a brief moment of silence, he said: "Now, is there something I can do for you in return, Neville? Perhaps I can help you with your schoolwork if there is something you have a trouble with?" He offered, recalling one of Malfoy's rants about the 'squib' of Gryffindor. He, of course, didn't believe that the heir Longbottom was one, but it was hard to deny that the boy was indeed having a rather hard time with the subjects that required wandwork.

"I'm f-fine, thank you." Neville replied, sounding suspiciously like he was trying to hide the fact that he actually could use some help with his studies.

"Well, if you are sure..." The Slytherin wizard said with a shrug. "My offer remains open if you ever change your mind." There was a bit of a pause as neither boy knew what to say next. Finally, Harry broke the silence. "Alright, if there is nothing else you wish to talk about, Neville, then let us call it a day." The Longbottom heir nodded. "See you later then. And my offer stands, so don't hesitate to ask if you need some." Harry said then as he waved his wand, canceling the privacy charms around their table.

* * *

A response from Lady Longbottom arrived the very next morning. And, thankfully, the witch has accepted his apologies and wasn't going to dissolve _The Pact_. Not at this time, at least: the letter he got made it quite clear that the regent of the House Longbottom strongly disapproved of his _close_ association with the Carrow twins and his friendships with a few other people from the 'Dark' families. And, given what happened at the very end of the Blood War, Harry could understand the witch's worries.

Still, the alliance between the Houses of Potter and Longbottom stayed, and Harry counted this as a not-so-small victory. After all, the Longbottoms were a powerful and well-respected house, and being allied with them had, no doubt, been shielding him from the nastier side of the Wizarding politics so far. Losing that protection could quickly turn into a catastrophe.

A frown marred the green-eyed wizard's face then. He was starting to politic like a stereotypically shrewd and compassionless Slytherin, who values people based only on their usefulness to him. And he didn't like it. He didn't want to be a man like that!

 **~/ *** \~**

The next person Harry wanted to establish a social connection with was Susan Bones, the heiress to the Noble House of Bones as well as the niece of the current director of the DMLE. Being on good terms with her could be a great boon for him in the future. Plus, he owed Susan's aunt, Madam Amelia Bones, quite a bit for bringing the bastards that sent him cursed mail to justice. He, of course, had already sent her a letter of gratitude, but he felt like he should pass thanks by word of mouth through Susan as well.

Due to the circumstances beyond his control, Harry didn't get a chance to approach Ms. Bones during the breakfast that day, nor did he get to talk to her at lunch. Thus, the young Slytherin resolved to seek her out once the classes were over for the day. And so, once the bell from the final lesson rang, he quickly dropped his schoolbag in the Slytherin dormitories and started searching... It took him a little while, but, eventually, he found Susan and her best friend, Hannah Abbot, sitting next to each other under a spreading tree on the edge of the field where the stone circle stood, enjoying fair if a bit chilly autumn weather.

"Good afternoon, ladies." Harry greeted as he approached the two Hufflepuff witches.

"Potter." Susan acknowledged him with a small nod as she and Hannah sat up a little straighter. "Is there something we can help you with?" The redhead asked then, looking at him with well-concealed caution.

"Actually, yes, heiress Bones." The young wizard replied. "Your aunt and the DMLE she commands have done a great job bringing those who attacked me and the House of Potter to swift justice. I'm in her - and your - debt now." He said, giving the girl a small bow.

"Protecting citizens of Magical Britain and punishing the wicked is the job of the DMLE. You should not feel indebted." Susan replied.

"Nevertheless, please accept my gratitude." Harry pressed gently. There was a bit of a pause, before the red-haired girl finally nodded. This was followed by another short pause. "Also." The young Potter continued. "Perhaps there is something within my power that I can do to repay you for that? If so, don't hesitate to ask." Ms. Bones was silent for a few moments.

"Actually, there is something you can help us with, heir Potter." She said finally. "Malfoy is back to his usual activities of harassing the people he sees as beneath himself."

"Well, at least he has learned about subtlety..." Harry said thoughtfully, somewhat impressed that Malfoy managed to keep his continued bullying a secret from him. "It might be wishful thinking, but, perhaps, he might just be smart enough to learn to act like a decent human being as well. I'll have words with him." Susan nodded.

"Thank you." She said. Suddenly, Harry felt someone approaching him from behind. Turning around, he found himself face to face with the twins, who were trying to sneak up on him.

"Flora? Hestia?" The green-eyed wizard asked, surprised to them there.

"C'mon, Harry, don't give us that look." Flora said as she and her sister stepped closer to him. "Of course we were looking for you: you disappeared somewhere without telling us as soon as the classes were over." The Potter heir let out a small sigh.

"Didn't I tell you this morning that I would like to speak to the heiress Bones?" He asked.

"You did." Hestia agreed with a shrug. "But… Well… We thought that, since you couldn't at breakfast and lunch, you'd try again during dinner or something like that, not immediately after classes." Flora took the word then:

"And what do we see when we finally find you? You're chatting Hufflepuff girls up." She said in a fake-serious voice. "Are Hestia and I not good enough for you anymore?" It took Harry a moment or two to realize that the twins were just teasing him.

"Well… The Hufflepuff ladies are certainly very friendly..." He said fake-thoughtfully. A moment later, he moved to pull the twins into a hug. "But I'm not trading you for anyone."

"Do you now?" Flora whispered into his ear with a playful grin. "I suppose you deserve something nice then." Without breaking their hug, the twins pushed him onto the ground where they proceeded to lie about in the fallen leaves, paying no attention to Susan's and Hannah's giggles.

 **~/ *** \~**

The rest of October flew by swiftly, and before Harry knew it, it was Halloween already. Once again, spooky wreaths, live bats and hundreds of jack-o'-lanterns were decorating the halls and corridors of Hogwarts. And while the people around him were imbued with the spirit of the holiday, the green-eyed wizard still didn't feel like celebrating anything on the day his parents were murdered by the Dark Lord. Still, remembering what Gemma Farley told him the previous year, he reluctantly joined his housemates and the rest of the student body in the Great Hall.

The feast was just as grandiose and magnificent as any other Harry had attended. Though, as he enjoyed the delicious meal, the green-eyed wizard couldn't shake off the gut feeling that something was off. Then, as he cast a glance that the Professors' table, he saw that Professor Quirrell was mysteriously absent. Everyone else on the Hogwarts' staff, even Madam Pomfrey, who was rarely seen outside of her domain, was there, enjoying the feast. This was… very strange.

Not a minute passed since then, and the missing DADA Professor burst into the Great Hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone turned to look at the terrified man, who reached the Professors' table and slumped against it.

"Troll!.." Professor Quirrell gasped between uneven breaths. "There is a t-troll in the dungeons!.. Thought you ought to k-know..." And with that he then sank to the floor in a dead faint. Not a second later the Great Hall descended into chaos, and it took Dumbledore several charms that produced loud bangs to get the students' attention.

"Prefects!" The headmaster rumbled. "Lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!" Many a student, however, was surprised and dismayed by his command.

"Sir!" A seventh year Slytherin prefect called loudly. "We refuse to carry out this order. Our dormitories are in the dungeons, and we are not going down there until the troll has been dealt with." He was vocally supported by a large number of his fellow 'Snakes'. Harry, Flora and Hestia were, of course, among them. Professor Snape was giving them silent - for the moment - backing as well.

"We refuse as well, Sir!" Hufflepuffs, whose dormitories too were somewhere in the dungeons, joined in. And now that two of the Hogwarts' four houses were openly opposing him, the headmaster had no choice but to rethink his order. And, well, he had to admit that in his haste to send everyone to the safety of the common rooms he had honestly forgotten that reaching half of those would put the students at the risk of facing the very danger he was trying to protect them from...

"Hufflepuff and Slytherin, belay that order." He said after a few moments. "You will remain here, in the Great Hall, until the troll has been dealt with. Professors Sprout and Sinistra will stay with you." Without wasting any time, Dumbledore started giving orders to the rest of the Professors. Harry was really curious, how they were going to go about locating the troll and removing it from the castle, but, alas, the headmaster has canceled his voice-amplification charm, and he couldn't hear what the man was saying. At least until… "Has anyone seen Quirinus… I mean, Professor Quirrell?" The headmaster asked loudly.

Indeed, the DADA professor wasn't in the Great Hall anymore. And, unfortunately for the old warlock, no one had noticed when and where to the man had disappeared. Thus, reluctantly, Dumbledore had to start looking for the troll without the Hogwarts' resident troll expert at hand…

Once the heavy oak doors of the Great Hall closed behind the search party, Professor Sprout told everyone that the headmaster and the Professors that went with him will deal with the troll and told the students to enjoy the rest of the Halloween Feast. Alas, the news about the troll have irrevocably ruined the festive mood so nobody felt like celebrating anything and the feast had become nothing more than a dinner with fancier than usual food.

* * *

Maybe half an hour passed since Professors went searching for the troll in the dungeons, when the doors of the Great Hall swung open, revealing the Deputy Headmistress, who looked quite shaken. The witch stepped inside, and made an announcement:

"The troll has been dealt with." She said, much to the relief of the students in the Great Hall. Meanwhile, the Transfiguration professor continued: "Please, return to your dormitories, now."

"Do you think, something has happened? Professor McGonagall looks quite distressed." Harry whispered to Flora and Hestia, who were sitting across the table from him. The girls nodded: they too could see that the Deputy Headmistress wasn't her usual professional stern self. What exactly had caused this, however, was a mystery at the moment.

Not wishing to test how lenient Professor McGonagall might be in her current mood, the prefects quickly organized their houses and had them depart from the Great Hall. A quick and, thankfully, eventless walk through the dungeons later, the Slytherins reached their common room. Professor Snape was waiting for them there.

"Everyone, stay put." The Hogwarts' Potions Master instructed as he did the headcount of his students. Once done, he continued: "I'm glad to see that none of you were hurt by the troll that _somehow_ found its way into the castle." The way he stressed the word 'somehow' made Harry and many others believe that their head of the house didn't think that what had happened tonight was an accident. "Alas, there was a student who got hurt. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick were able to stop the troll before it was too late, but the student in question will still have to spend at least a weak under Madam Pomfrey's care."

"And… Who was that student?" Someone asked.

"Ms. Hermione Granger." The Potions Master replied.

"So, what's with all this fuss then?" Malfoy spoke up. "It's just a stupid mudblood, no one important. If anything, the troll killing her would have been..." He couldn't a word more as he was practically paralyzed by the death glares at least a third of Slytherins was giving him. Even some of the people from his usual clique thought that he had gone too far this time.

"Mr. Malfoy." Professor Snape said in a low, dangerous voice. "It seems like you are forgetting your place. Perhaps, a week of scrubbing the floors will make you finally remember that you're not above the rules of the Slytherin common room." Giving the boy a nasty grin, the Potions Master continued: "As for you wish of death upon your fellow student, it will see you in detentions until the end of the semester. I'll also inform the headmaster about your …indiscretion."

"You can't do this!" Draco protested.

"On the contrary, Mr. Malfoy." His head of the house said, as he pinned the blonde brat with his patented glare. "It is well within my power to do this. And, seeing how you've been nothing but trouble since you got there, be thankful that I'm not punishing you more severely."

"Just wait till my father hears of this!" Draco pushed back. Professor Snape, however, was unimpressed.

"I'm sure, your father will agree with me that your lack of prudence is troubling. If nothing is done about it, your big mouth will see House of Malfoy gaining more enemies than it can weather against." Thankfully, even someone as stubborn as Draco could see that continuing to argue against his head of the house would be just foolish. "Now, is there any other idiocy that you wish to waste my time with?" The Hogwarts' Potions Master asked then.

"No, Sir." The Slytherins chorused.

"Then, this will be all for tonight." Professor Snape said. "Dismissed." And with that he left for his office. A few moments passed, and the students began dispersing to their dorm rooms as well, eager to get some rest after the long and eventful day. Harry, however, had some things he wanted to do before he called it a day. The troll finding its way into the castle's dungeons was very suspicious and he wanted to know what the portrait of Salazar Slytherin thought about it:

" _Good evening, Master Salazar._ " He greeted the man. " _I believe, you have already heard about the troll that has wandered into the dungeons tonight?_ " The portrait confirmed it with a nod.

" _Indeed. And it saddens me greatly that something like this was allowed to happen in Hogwarts' sacred halls. That no lives were lost tonight is but a small consolation._ " There was a short pause, before Salazar added: " _And, Potion Master Snape is right in his suspicions: the troll getting into the castle was no accident._ " Now, this was interesting, Harry thought.

" _Why is that?_ " He asked.

" _The Hogwarts' wards are made to divert beasts, even those that are semi-intelligent like mountain trolls, preventing them from randomly wandering onto the castle's grounds. And while it is true that a determined creature will be able to overcome the effects of these wards, a troll should have had no reason of its own to have such determination. It must have been purposely led there by someone of ill intentions. For what reason, I do not know._ " The portrait explained.

" _I see…_ " The young Potter said. After a moment of silence, he added: " _I believe, I should inform the faculty about this._ " Salazar nodded.

" _Do so._ " He said. " _The sooner this is dealt with, the better. Those who wish harm upon the students should not be allowed to walk the corridors of Hogwarts._ "

" _I'll inform Professor Snape about this then. By your leave, Lord Slytherin._ " Harry gave Salazar's portrait a small bow and quickly walked out of the common room, not waiting for a reply.

 **~/ *** \~**

"Granger." Pansy greeted as she approached the bushy-haired witch, who was the sole patient in the Hospital wing at the moment.

"Parkinson." Hermione acknowledged her visitor, eyeing her warily. And given their past interactions, it was hard to blame her: saying that the two young witches didn't get along was like saying that the cursed flames of **Fiendfire** were a little hot.

"I know, we don't like each other, like at all, and I don't seen it changing anytime soon..." Pansy said then. "But what has happened to you is unforgivable." This made Hermione raise an eyebrow: these weren't the words she expected to hear from the Slytherin girl. "So much so that, should you decide to press charges against either the headmaster for his criminal negligence in providing Hogwarts' students with safe environment, or against the bastard that let the troll in for willfully endangering the students and harming you through intermediary, the Noble House of Parkinson _will_ stand behind you. This one time."

The troll incident yesternight came as a great shock to Pansy's father, the current Lord Parkinson. Especially since it was clear that whoever let the troll wander around the castle didn't care whom the beast hurt. And, if that bastard did it once, he - or she - could do it again. Who was to say that it won't be Pansy who got hurt the next time? There was no way he would simply stand by and do nothing while his only child's health and life are in danger. There was nothing more important to Lord Parkinson than the safety of his little princess, and he was willing to go great lengths to ensure it… And if helping a mudblood would guarantee that Pansy won't be the next victim of that bastard, then so be it.

"T-Thank you." Was all that Hermione could say right now.

"Just don't think that this makes us friends somehow." Pansy said back. "Now, it you excuse me, the classes will start soon. And I will be damned if I'm late because of you." And with those words she turned around on her heels and promptly walked out of the Hospital wing, leaving a very dumbfounded Hermione behind.

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	18. Rocking the Boat

And here's the eighteenth chapter, folks! Enjoy!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **mwinter1** , **Darth-Vulturnus** , **Ranmaleopard** , **Noble Korhedron** , **ObsessedWithHPFanFic** , **DarkRavie** , **Tsukikageshi** , **akasanta** , **The Richmaster** , **MargaritaS** , **naruto (Guest)** , **JPElles** , **god of all** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **mizzrazz72** , she will.  
 **The Sinful** , **magitech** , yeah, I too find the 'traditional' Harry-fights-the-troll-to-save-Hermione scenes to be really out of place sometimes. Which is why I took this route with my story.  
 **Wyrtha** , the (s)Quirrell will be dealt with soon enough, for better or worse.  
 **tacitblue1973** , heh. And, I bet, Malfoy Sr. is not happy with Draco either.

 *** AN**: Great thanks to my friend **Skelekitty** for his help in polishing this chapter. Also, the next chapter will probably be a little later than usual as I want to write some updates for my other stories.

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
" _parseltongue_ "  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text  
_ **spells**

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon  
Chapter XVIII: Rocking the Boat**

A little more than a week passed since the 'Troll Incident', and the life at Hogwarts was back to norm. And that wasn't really a good thing; it seemed like the staff decided to just sweep the whole thing under the rug and carry on as if nothing had happened. This was most disconcerting for Harry, given how he had informed Professor Snape about the wards and how it meant that the troll could have been purposely led into the castle on that very night, yet saw no indication that anything had been done with this knowledge.

Still, the Potter heir was willing to wait for a little bit more, before trying his luck with Madam Bones and the DMLE. He was pretty sure that Madam Bones would do everything in her power to bring the one who had endangered the lives of so many students to swift justice. In the meantime, he went about his daily life as usual - attending the classes, hanging out with his friends and doing homework the professors assigned so readily.

One day, Harry was in the library, working on his History of Magic essay. It wasn't the most engaging of tasks, so his attention occasionally wandered away from his parchment and the history books he was using as references. And during one such time, he noticed something very curious: in the far corner of the reading room Pansy Parkinson and Hermione Granger, who had been released from the Hospital Wing a yesterday, were talking to each other amiably as they worked on some project together.

The girls kept going over a number of old and dusty tomes throughout the whole afternoon. In fact, Hermione was the first one to leave the library some twenty minutes before the dinner. And as she walked away, Harry spied Pansy stretching tiredly in her seat. Deciding that this was a good chance for him to sate his curiosity about the unusual cooperation he had just witnessed, he approached the 'younger' Slytherin. He really wanted to know what was going on as he vividly remembered heiress Parkinson complaining about Ms. Granger being a 'disgrace of a proper witch' loudly for the past two months.

"What do you want, Potter?" Pansy asked spently as he got close to 'her' table.

"Good evening you too, heiress Parkinson." Harry greeted her. "Would you be so kind as to sate my curiosity about your newest acquaintance?" He received a fierce glare in response. "Alright, alright." He backed away a little. "Sorry, I was merely curious. It is rather unlike you to cooperate with Ms. Granger like this. And, of course, I will neither judge you nor spread the news about this. Your 'secret' is safe with me." After thinking about it for a few moments Pansy deflated a bit, realizing that the wizard in front of her indeed wouldn't judge her for 'associating' with those not of pure blood.

"Sorry." She said. "I'm just very frustrated right now. Granger isn't someone I can easily be civil with, and the lack of progress we have in our task isn't helping either." Pansy needn't be a seer to see that Harry was about to ask her to elaborate on what that task was, so she went ahead and told him about it: "On the behalf of the Noble House of Parkinson, I'm helping Granger press charges against the school for what happened to her on the Samhain night."

"I see..." Harry said. "And what sort of difficulties do you have? Perhaps I can help you?"

"Thank you." Pansy said as she stood up and began stacking up the books she and Ms. Granger had been using. "Though, I'm not sure what you can do. By all accounts, the troll getting into the castle was an accident and, as such, the worst charge that can be leveled against the faculty is negligence leading to personal injury. It will get Granger compensated, and, perhaps, a promise that something like this will not happen again, but that's it." She said, before adding: "And, could you please help me put these books back?" Harry nodded, picking up a the tomes from the table.

"I believe, I actually can help you with your little task." He said. "You see, according a reliable source, Hogwarts has a ward that prevents dangerous wild animals from accidentally wandering too close to the castle. Or, at least, such ward existed in the past. Thus, either the ward is deliberately kept inactive or removed, therefore placing everyone in danger of attacks by the beasts from the Forbidden Forest, or there is someone who intentionally led the troll into the castle." The young Potter explained.

"Oh my!" Pansy exclaimed. This was big. After a few moments, she asked: "But… How reliable is this source of yours?"

"I was told about this ward by the Lord Salazar Slytherin... Well, by his portrait in our common room." The green-eyed wizard replied. "It is rather unfortunate that his word will not be accepted by the court due to him being a portrait, and one that speaks only in parseltongue, but it should be possible to get a definitive proof whether this ward is active right now or not."

"Yes… That could be very helpful..." Pansy responded thoughtfully. "Thank you, Potter." Harry nodded.

"Also." He continued. "I suggest, you rally others to support you. With the right presentation, you should be able to get every student in the castle - and, by extension, their parents - to stand by your lawsuit. This way, it will be impossible to hush it."

"Of course." Pansy said with a nod. "We'll get to that as soon as father determines whether this ward you're talking about is there or not." And with that the two of them fell into rather comfortable silence as they returned the books the girls had been studying to their shelves.

 **~/ *** \~**

A couple of days passed since his conversation with Ms. Parkinson in the library, and Harry finally received his invitation to the Yule party. The MacMillan heir himself gave it to him one afternoon:

"Heir Potter, can I have a moment of your time?" Ernest called as he ran into Harry in the Long Gallery leading to the greenhouses; the young Potter was heading there to get some fresh potion ingredients for his kit. "The Yule party is hosted by my family this year and we will be honored if you choose to attend." He said as he handed over an envelope with the seal of House MacMillan on it.

"Thank you, heir MacMillan, I'm most honored by your invitation." The green-eyed parselmouth replied, accepting the letter. Then, he added: "I'm afraid, I'll have to ask for a favor from your Lord, however."

"What kind of a favor, heir Potter?" Ernest asked curiously.

"You see, I'm a minor without a recognized legal guardian in the Magical world, and so, for the duration of the academic year, the headmaster - Professor Dumbledore - acts _in loco parentis_ for me. And he, for whatever reason, doesn't want me to attend social events like the Yule party at the present time. He has already prevented me from attending one the previous year." Harry explained. "Thus I'd like to ask your lord to subtly apply some political pressure to our illustrious headmaster so that he doesn't bar me from attending this year's Yule party as well."

"I see..." The MacMillan heir said with a nod. "I'll pass your request to my father."

"Thank you." Harry said. This was followed by a few moments of silence, before Ernest spoke again:

"Also, heir Potter, do you know where I can find your friends, Misses Carrow?" He asked. "I have invitations for them as well, and I'd like to hand them over personally."

"I'm afraid, Flora and Hestia are busy catching up their homework right now." Harry replied. "They'll likely stay inside the Slytherin common room until dinner."

"I see… Thank you." The Hufflepuff boy said, before bidding his farewell and walking away, presumably to find other people he had invitations for. Meanwhile, Harry put his invitation into an inner pocket of his robes and continued on his way to the greenhouses.

 **~/ *** \~**

The next Monday began pretty normal for Harry, but that quickly changed as soon after the morning post arrived, he was approached by Pansy Parkinson.

"Heir Potter." The dark-haired witch said. "If you can, I'd like you to join myself and Granger in the library after the classes." Seeing the questioning look Harry was giving her, she quickly elaborated: "During this weekend my father has conducted an independent investigation into the matter you've brought up and owled me the results he got."

"I see." The young Potter said, quite curious about what Lord Parkinson's investigation had uncovered. "I'll be there." He promised. Pansy gave him a nod before returning to her seat.

"What was this about, Harry?" Flora asked, curious about what was going on.

"Nothing much. As heiress Parkinson said, her father has sent her the results of his investigation." He said with a shrug.

"Oh." Flora said. "Any idea what Lord Parkinson has found?" Harry shook his head. He really had no idea what state the ward Salazar Slytherin told him about was in right now. And the results hopefully would tell him that the ward was down. After all, while neither would be good news, the headmaster being neglectful of wards was still better than him allowing a person that was willing to sacrifice the lives of students for his or her goals into the castle…

"Don't worry." He said. "I'll tell you as soon as I know more myself."

* * *

Being rather interested in what Lord Parkinson managed to uncover about the wards, Harry could hardly wait for the classes to end that day. And so, as soon as the last period of the day was over, he was off to the library. Perhaps unsurprisingly, neither Pansy nor Hermione were there yet when he arrived to Madam Pince's domain. He didn't have to wait for them for long, though: the girls showed up just a couple of minutes later.

"Ms. Granger, heiress Parkinson." He greeted them as they took seats across the table from him. "Before we begin, let me make sure we will not be overheard." Upon their nods, the green-eyed wizard drew his wand and cast the best privacy charms he was capable of. "Now then." He continued as he returned his wand to its holster. "Heiress Parkinson has informed me this morning that she has information about the state of Hogwarts wards - the one that is supposed to keep wild animals away from the castle, to be particular." Pansy nodded.

"Indeed. Acting on the information provided by the heir Potter, my father has employed a Gringotts curse-breaker to secretly investigate the state of the ward in question." The Slytherin witch said. "The ward exists, however it is greatly weakened. Alas, due to this assessment being done in secret and without access to the wardstone, it was impossible to determine when the ward has lost its potency." After pausing for a moment, Pansy continued: "However, my father has pointed out another thing that might help your case, Granger: trolls aren't intelligent enough to pick locks, and there is no troll-sized door on the side of the castle facing the Forbidden Forest that should be left unlocked at the dinnertime. If no doors were broken on the Samhain night, then someone _had to_ let the troll in."

"I see…" Was all that Hermione could say to this right now.

"Interesting, I haven't thought about that. And it shouldn't be too hard for the DMLE to check, whether any of the Hogwarts' entrances needed their doors repaired recently." Harry said. "That said, I don't think we should actually inform the staff about this - if the troll was not an accident, then the person behind the attack might get a hint and conceal the evidence before the DMLE can get their hands on it."

"Agreed." Pansy said with a nod. "Now, if you have nothing to add, Granger, then I'm telling my father to give his barrister a go-ahead."

"Do that, Parkinson." Hermione said, having nothing of value to add at this point.

"Alright." The Slytherin witch replied. "I can't say exactly how long our barrister will need to prepare the draft of necessary documents for your lawsuit, but he's one of the best money can buy, so it shouldn't take more than a few days. Once the draft arrive, Granger, you'll need to review and sign them, before they can be filed with the DMLE." Upon Hermione's nod, she continued: "In the meantime, heir Potter and I will gather as much support for it as we can among the students."

"You will do that for me?" The bushy-haired girl asked.

"Make no mistake, Granger, I'm not your friend and I'm certainly not doing this for _you_ \- I can't speak for the heir Potter here, though - I'm doing it for _myself_." Pansy replied. "What happened on the Samhain night is very serious, and doing nothing about it means it can happen again. To you. To _me_. To anyone. And the next time it happens, Professors might not arrive in time to save us." She 'explained'. "There, of course, will be those who wouldn't wish to support you personally, Granger, but we can get their support regardless if we phrase it like we're doing this in order to keep everyone safe." It was written all over Hermione's face that she was far from happy with this, yet she said nothing. Mostly because no matter her reasons, Pansy was still helping her.

 **~/ *** \~**

"Heir Potter." Pansy greeted Harry as she approached him in the common room on Friday afternoon, a small stack of papers in her hands. "Granger has signed the documents." Harry nodded.

"I see..." He said. After a moment of silence he asked: "Shall we start gathering the support for the lawsuit then?" The dark-haired witch gave him her assent.

"Yes." She said. "I'm sure I can get almost everyone in Slytherin to take our side. Alas, I can't say I have the connections necessary to achieve the same result with the other houses, especially Hufflepuff and Gryffindor." This didn't come as a great surprise to Harry, though: Pansy was a traditional Slytherin and didn't network much outside of the Snake's Den.

"Alright, I'll take care of that." He said, answering the unspoken question.

"Thank you, and… Could you have it done by Saturday evening?" She requested. "It would be convenient if the final version of Granger's is done and filed with the DMLE by Monday morning." She explained. Harry nodded in agreement: the sooner the DMLE began working on this case, the smaller was the chance that the bastard behind the troll accident will be able to escape justice.

"I'll try." He said.

* * *

Having had his dinner early that evening, Harry set out to delegate the task of collecting the signatures needed for Hermione's lawsuit to the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff prefects: he felt that for something as important as this, he should go straight to the students with the highest authority. True, he might not be as friendly with them as he was with his friends in those houses, but in this case, it should matter not.

"Good evening." The green-eyed wizard greeted as he approached the seventh year Hufflepuff prefect, whose name he couldn't quite recall. "May I have a moment of your time?"

"Something I can do for you, Potter?" The said prefect asked in response. And it was in the tone of his voice that he rather Harry didn't bother him with whatever his problem was. He was just too polite to say something like that out loud.

"Yes." The young Slytherin said. "I'm sure, you remember what happened on the Halloween night?" The Hufflepuff nodded in agreement. It wasn't likely that he'd forget about that 'excitement' any time soon. "Well, it's been awhile since then, yet we haven't seen anything done to prevent something like that from happening again. Thus, we're going to remind the authorities that it is their job to ensure our safety and that they must take responsibility for failing to do so. And to ensure that we aren't dismissed easily, we need as much support as possible. So, would you be willing to gather signatures from Hufflepuff for us?" Harry asked as offered the Hufflepuff prefect a large roll of parchment, labeled to identify its purpose.

"I see." The older boy said, accepting the parchment. "We'll help you." Indeed, even if this initiative was started by Slytherins - and, probably out of self-preservation rather than honest desire to help everyone - it would still result in everyone's time at Hogwarts being a little safer. There was no reason to deny this request.

"Thank you." Harry said with a small bow. There was a bit of a pause, before he continued: "And, since we'd rather have everything done as soon as possible, could you please have the signatures collected by this time tomorrow?" The Hufflepuff prefect nodded. "Thank you." The young Potter said again. He then excused himself and headed for the Lions' table.

He wasn't as welcome there. The infamous rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin saw to that. And it took Neville's intervention to get it through the prefects' heads that Harry might not be there to do evil Slytherin things and that he should at least be heard out. Even then, many of them were very distrustful, believing that whole signature-collecting thing was a ruse to trick them into being a part of whatever evil deed he had in mind.

It took Harry quite a bit to convince the stubborn 'Gryffs that he wasn't there to cause any troubles for them, and he almost lost his patience with them a couple of times, but, in the end, they agreed to collect the signatures to support Hermione's lawsuit for him.

 **~/ *** \~**

Monday morning at Hogwarts started pretty much like any other weekday morning. The only hint that Harry had that something interesting might happen was Pansy's barely-concealed anticipation. The girl was just eager to see the results of her work.

The Potter heir has already finished his meal and was ready to depart for the Slytherin dungeon when he saw the headmaster stiffen momentarily in his throne-like seat out of the corner of his eye. Curious about what was going on, Harry decided to stay. And, a few minutes later his waiting paid off as the doors of the Great Hall swung open, revealing Madam Bones and six auror accompanying her.

"Good morning, Amelia." Dumbledore greeted her, rising from his seat. "What brings you to Hogwarts this fine morning?" The monocle-wearing witch gave her niece a brief nod of greeting, before directing her attention to the Hogwarts headmaster.

"Albus." The director of the DMLE nodded, greeting him back with strained politeness. "And, I believe, you know well why I am here." Not even giving the man a chance to respond, she continued: "However, I don't believe that the Great Hall is the best place for our conversation. I'll be at your office. I expect you there once you're done eating." And with those words she turned around and walked out of the Great Hall, her departure sparking many conversation among the students.

* * *

"Alright, what can I do for you, Amelia?" Professor Dumbledore asked, taking a seat behind his table in the headmaster's office. The witch huffed.

"As I've said in the Great Hall, you know very well why I'm here, Headmaster. But if you insist on playing this game, I shall oblige." She said, leaning forward in her own seat. "A lawsuit against Hogwarts has been filed with my department, both for failing to provide the students with safe environment and for not compensating Ms. Granger for the injuries she sustained because of that. And..." She continued, almost with glee. "This finally gives me the right to properly investigate how a mountain troll of all things managed to find its way into the castle."

"I assure you that the issue has been taken care of and such incident will never happen again, Amelia. Furthermore, I fully agree that Ms. Granger must be compensated for the injuries she had suffered on that night. Unfortunately, she hasn't made her demands known to me yet, so I'm unable to recompense her." Dumbledore said, trying to placate the witch across the table from him.

"Well, luckily for you, Ms. Granger has made her demands known to me." Amelia said as she passed a piece of parchment to the aged warlock. "As for your claim of this school being safe now - I'll be the judge of it. And Ms. Granger's lawsuit lets me run my investigation as I see fit, regardless of Hogwarts' status as a self-governing, semi-autonomous territory." Dumbledore let out a sigh. He knew that the law was on Amelia's side.

"Very well." He said finally. There was a small pause, before he added. "However, may I implore you to do your best to avoid disrupting the classes while you are conducting your investigation?"

"While I can't really promise anything, we will do our best not to cause your staff and your students any unnecessary problems." Madam Bones said as she rose from her seat.

"Thank you." Dumbledore said with a nod. Returning his nod, the director of the DMLE headed for the exit. Opening the door, she turned to look at him.

"I'll be sure to inform you of any and all problems my aurors and I uncover during our investigation. And, for the sake of students here, let us hope that this is the last time I'm doing your job for you." She said, before finally stepping out of his office.

As the door closed behind Madam Bones, Albus let out a deep sigh. He knew that Quirinius was behind the 'Troll incident'. And, under normal circumstances, he would've had the man in the DMLE's holding cells before that night was over. Alas, things were never simple, and he had a reason to keep the young man in question in the castle even if he was a danger to the Hogwarts' students.

He began suspecting it a few months ago, and by now he was almost certain that Quirinius was actually working for Voldemort, who, somehow, didn't die on that Halloween night ten years ago. It was a huge gamble on Dumbledore's part to let a man like that into Hogwarts, but it also allowed him to keep an eye on the Dark Lord's moves and be there to stop him from rising back to the power and restarting the Blood War. And if Quirinius was to be arrested and sent to Azkaban for his crimes, Voldemort's actions would become much much harder to predict, which could lead to a great disaster.

He just hoped that his attempt to protect as many as possible from the evil of Voldemort and the horrors of war wasn't misguided. After all, as the saying goes, road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	19. Small Victories

And here's the nineteenth chapter, folks! Enjoy!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **DarkRavie** , **Jostanos** , **mwinter1** , **geekymom** , **mizzrazz72** , **Tychon** , **RebeliousOne** , **jamnaz79** , **Wyrtha** , **Tsukikageshi** , **Ariadne Venegas** , **naruto** (guest), **Charles Ceaser** , **Blackholelord** , **richard333** , **JPElles** , **Lord Mortensen** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **The Sinful** , well, this Dumbledore is a bit more aware of the fact that he can (and does) make mistakes, apparently.  
 **magitech** , **ObsessedWithHPFanFic** , **city** **bookworm** , yeah, it's a bit strange that in the books no one outside of Hogwarts does anything when something happens in the castle - unless it is to make the life for Harry and co even more difficult, like arresting Hagrid in the second year or attacking him and McGonagall in fifth. One might think, there is some Magic in the play that prevents the children from telling their parents about strange and dangerous things they come across.  
 **setokayba2n** , hehe.  
 **Darth-Vulturnus** , well, I try to keep bashing down, but I pretty sure there is quite a bit of it there regardless. Still, thank you for your vote of confidence.

 *** AN**: Great thanks to my friend **Skelekitty** for his help in polishing this chapter. Also...

 **Happy New Year, folks!**

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
" _parseltongue_ "  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text  
_ **spells**

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon  
Chapter XIX: Small Victories**

"Dumbledore!" Amelia growled as she stormed into the Headmaster's office like an embodiment of Fury. It has been only two, maybe three hours since her Aurors began their investigation of the 'Troll Incident', and something of great concern has already turned up.

"Something I can help you with, Amelia?" The old warlock asked, looking away from a large pile of documents lying on the table in front of him.

"Yes, you damn well can." The DMLE Director stated. "What in the Merlin's name were you thinking when you brought a fully-grown cerberus inside Hogwarts? And, even worse, put in a location that can easily be accessed by the students? A single door that can be opened with a simple unlocking charm is not enough to keep the curious children away from the beast!"

"I've explained it to the students during the Welcoming Feast that the corridor currently occupied by the cerberus is off-limits to everyone and..." He was about to say something else, but Madam Bones interrupted him:

"And you are bloody stupid to believe that they will do as you say." She said, pinning the elderly wizard with her glare. "If you tell a child not to do something, than you can be damn sure that they _will_ try to do just that as soon as you look away." After a moment of silence Amelia continued: "Regardless, I want that beast removed from the castle. A school is not a place for keeping cerberi." There was another moment of silence, before she asked. "And what is it doing here anyway?"

"As you surely know, Amelia, cerberi are excellent guardians." Albus said. "Fluffy, as Hagrid named him, is the first line of defense for a very important Magical artifact I was asked to safeguard." Madam Bones wasn't impressed.

"Have you gone senile, Dumbledore?" She asked in a low, dangerous tone as she glared at the Headmaster. "What were you thinking when you decided that a school full of children is the best place to safekeep a valuable and dangerous Magical artifact?" Not giving the man a chance to say anything in his own defense, she continued: "I want this artifact removed from Hogwarts and all of its 'defenses' dismantled yesterday." Letting out a deep sigh, the old warlock replied:

"Very well, Amelia. I'll see to the artifact being moved to another place. But this is going to take some time, a few days at the very least." The DMLE Director eyed him critically for a few moments, before finally nodding.

"Make sure you do that as soon as possible." There was a long pause, before Dumbledore spoke again:

"Is there anything else I can help you with at this time, Amelia?" He asked.

"No." Madam Bones replied. "But I'll be sure to inform you if and when my Aurors find themselves in the need of your help." And with that she turned around and walked out of his office. As the door behind her closed, Dumbledore couldn't help but let out a sigh. This was getting quite troublesome… Thankfully, he had foresight to build the traps around the Philosopher's Stone in a way that allowed him to move the rooms around freely. Thus, all he needed to do was move the entrance someplace Amelia wouldn't find it. Still something that requires a lot of time and effort, but much easier than dismantling the whole thing.

* * *

It was no surprise that by the dinner time the entire school knew that Madam Bones had demanded the forbidden corridor on the third flood to be cleared. The exact details of that argument were unknown to the students, but there wasn't anyone who'd miss a giant three-headed dog that apparently lived in that corridor for the past three and a half months.

Harry was also excited by this news because it meant that the Headmaster's attention was temporarily shifted towards dealing with the DMLE's demands, thus giving him an opportunity to accept Lord MacMillan's invitation to the Yule party. His decision made, the green-eyed wizard picked a piece of parchment and his quill and began writing...

"Writing someone a letter, Harry?" Flora asked as she peeked from behind his armchair's backrest. Her sister just stood quietly by her side.

"Yeah." The young Potter replied. "I'm sending Lord MacMillan a letter to tell him that I've accepted his invitation to the Yule party." Guessing that the twins wanted to ask him why he had delayed doing this until now, he explained: "Since Dumbledore is busy dealing with the DMLE's investigation, it is likely that he won't notice me accepting this invitation until it is too and he can't stop me without suffering a massive public backlash for his actions."

"How very Slytherin of you, Potter." Flora said teasingly. Harry could only smile in response. After a brief moment of silence, she continued: "And since we will be seeing you at this year's party, I believe, you owe us a dance or two." Casting a quick glance at her sister, she added: "Each."

"Sure." The green-eyed youth agreed. "But I'm not sure I'm good at dancing, though." He added then. The twins shared a look.

"Then we need to practice." Hestia suggested. "I remember grandmother telling us that there used to be a music room somewhere in the castle. We could make use of it." Flora nodded in agreement.

"Sounds like a plan." She said. And with that, Harry had no other option but to accept that the twins will be teaching him dancing. Not that he minded it: he liked spending time with them.

 **~/ *** \~**

Over the past few days, the Aurors had searched the castle thoroughly in their investigation of the 'Troll Incident'. And the information provided by the Lord Parkinson turned out to be spot on: the ward meant to keep wild beasts away from Hogwarts was severely underpowered. It actually was a wonder that the beasts from the Forbidden Forest weren't wandering all over the school's grounds right now.

Furthermore, the Aurors have found no signs that any repairs, by Magical means or otherwise, had been conducted on any of the known entrances of the castle. This meant that the troll didn't force its way in and, instead, was lead into the cast by someone. Professor Quirinus Quirrell, being a known troll-speaker, was the primary suspect there.

In addition to that, several Magical artifacts that had no place inside a school had been discovered within the castle during the investigation. And Madam Bones intended to confront the Headmaster about the worst one before finally informing him about the detainment of his DADA Professor.

"Dumbledore." She called as she walked into his office. "Could you please explain, what a class XXX Magical artifact is doing within Hogwarts, without as much as a single ward to keep nosy students from discovering it." Noticing the man's look of confusion - hopefully, a faked one - she elaborated: "I'm talking about a certain enchanted mirror you have in one of the unused classrooms."

"Ah, the Mirror of Erised. It was brought here to serve as one of the defenses for an object I was asked to safekeep. But seeing as you've made me relocate it elsewhere, the Mirror will soon be returned to its original location." Albus replied. Of course, that was a lie. He would still use the Mirror as the final protection for the Philosopher's stone, but Amelia didn't need to know that. "I must confess, however, that I indeed should've been more thorough in ensuring that no student would come across it during the short time it stayed in the room you've found it."

"I hope, it is indeed so." Madam Bones said. Then, a moment later, the bell announcing the lunch break rang. Waiting patiently for it to finish ringing, Amelia continued: "I would also like to inform you that the Aurors investigating the 'Troll Incident' have managed to make a significant progress in resolving the case. According to their findings, someone from within had let the beast in. And we have a suspect. He is being detained as we speak."

"May I ask, who your suspect is?" Dumbledore said, doing his best to keep his worries out of his voice.

"Quirinus Quirrell, the current DADA professor of Hogwarts." Amelia replied, confirming his fears.

* * *

As the bell rang, the sixth year students hastily vacated the DADA classroom, relieved that the morning classes were now over. And once the auditorium was empty, a previously-unnoticed team of Aurors made their way inside, their arrival catching the turban-wearing wizard's attention.

"S-something I can help you with, g-gentlemen?" Professor Quirrell asked them.

"Yes." The leader of the team confirmed as his subordinates drew their wands and pointed them at the DADA Professor, who reacted to this by reaching for his own wand. "Mr. Quirinus Quirrell, you are suspected of willfully endangering Hogwarts' students with the act of bringing an adult mountain troll into the castle. Surrender yourself quietly. Any attempts to resist detainment will be met will force." Pausing for a moment to take a breath, the senior Auror continued: "You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you by the Ministry."

" _Surrender yourself to the Aurors, Quirinus._ " Voldemort commanded his host.

" _M-Master?_ " The said host, however, was less than happy with this order.

" _Do not worry, Quirinus, you've proven yourself useful to me. I will not let you suffer Azkaban._ " The Dark Lord reassured him. Letting out a resigned sigh, the DADA Professor moved his hand away from his wand and then raised his hands.

"I surrender." He told the Aurors, who then proceeded to take his wand and cuff him.

* * *

Even though no one was killed or suffered any permanent damage during the 'Troll Incident', it was still considered a very high-profile case as it was an attack against Hogwarts and the future generation of the Wizarding Britain. Thus, it wasn't long before Quirinus Quirrell found himself in one of the interrogation rooms. He was given an opportunity to get an attorney, but following his Master's order, he declined. His refusal raised a few eyebrows, but since it was his right, the Aurors merely shrugged and got to interrogating him.

Quirrell, whose hands were still cuffed, was put on a very uncomfortable chair on the far side of the room while his interrogator and his assistant took seats across the table from him. Then the rest of Aurors left, leaving the three of them as the sole occupants of the room.

This presented the disembodied Dark Lord with an opportunity to claim a much better-placed host. True, trying to take over one of the DMLE interrogators would be a very risky move as any mistake would result in his existence being exposed to the world while also leaving him in a weakened state and without a readily-available host to recuperate in. Still, the benefits from having an Auror as his new host outweighed these risks in Voldemort's mind, and so he struck.

Calling upon the Dark Magics known only to a handful of wizards, he rapidly absorbed the life-force of his host, turning him into a dried-up mummy in the face of the two Aurors in the room. Then, as soon as this process was completed and he was ejected from the now-dead body, Voldemort shot straight for the interrogator, using the vast amounts of collected power to swiftly overwhelm the man's feeble mind while leaving most of his memories intact as he completely took over his body…

" **Imperio!** " Voldemort intoned as he hit the other Auror in the room with the Unforgivable Curse. "You will continue working for the DMLE as normal." He instructed his new pawn. "And when you hear that the Dark Lord Voldemort has risen back to power, you will immediately seek him out and offer your services." The wizard nodded dumbly, indicating that he got his orders. Smiling to himself, Voldemort decided that it was the time to sweep his proverbial trail. " **Oblivate!** " Seeing the man's eyes slid out of focus, the Dark Lord gave him the redacted version of what has happened in the past minute: "Mr. Quirrell attempted an unknown self-sacrificial spell with an obvious intent of causing massive damage to the Ministry. And if it wasn't for our swift actions, he would have succeeded.." The Auror blinked a few times as Voldemort finished altering his memories.

"Merlin, that was terrifying." He said, actually sounding genuinely relieved. Apparently, he had a very good imagination, and it painted quite a picture of the recent events for him based on the implanted fake memories. "We're, like, heroes, captain! Do you think Madam Director will give us a commendation for this?" He asked excitedly.

"I certainly hope so." Voldemort replied carefully, busy planning his next move. First, he needed to create more sleeper agents within the Ministry. He will need them to prepare the world to his triumphant return. Then, he needed to convince that Bones woman to send him to Hogwarts as a replacement DADA Professor. While he certainly could use other means to get himself a proper new body, he wanted it to be perfect and immortal, and for that he needed the Philosopher's Stone. Plus, it would be much easier to keep his current body alive and human-looking if he was at Hogwarts, where he could easily hunt unicorns for their blood.

Smiling to himself as his plans for the near future were taking shape, Voldemort followed his 'colleague' out of the interrogation room without sparing the dried-up husk of Quirinus Quirrell even a single glance.

 **~/ *** \~**

Quirrell's detainment and subsequent suicide had caused a number of headaches for Dumbledore: not only did he have to ensure that the DADA classes continued even with the Professor gone, but he also needed to hire someone to fill the suddenly-vacant position. And, with the job being rather infamous for its 'curse' it was easier said than done...

Thus, it wasn't until two weeks before the end of the semester when he discovered that Harry Potter had gone behind his back and accepted Lord MacMillan's invitation to the Yule party. Even worse, now that the boy was on the official list of attendees, he couldn't even force him to 'change his mind' without angering many a pureblood of the higher society. That, however, didn't mean that he couldn't make his dissatisfaction with Harry's actions known to the boy.

"Harry, my boy, I'm very disappointed in you." The Headmaster said as the younger wizard took a seat in one of the 'guest' chairs. "Haven't we established the previous year that it is dangerous for you to attend such events until you're older and more experienced in politics? I do not believe that you're mature enough to attend such an event yet, and your ill-considered decision to accept Lord MacMillan's invitation proves me right." The green-eyed youth said nothing in response, his eyes full of resolve not to back down. Dumbledore, meanwhile, continued: "And now that your future as a respectable member of Magical society depends on fulfilling your promise to attend the party, I'm left with only a few ways to shield from the dangers of the adult world."

Once again, Harry said nothing in response. He could see clearly that the Headmaster was too set in his opinion and any attempts to change his mind would only complicate things unnecessarily… Meanwhile, it looked like the old warlock wasn't done talking just yet:

"Thus, with great reluctance, I'll let you attend the party. But, to make sure that none of your spur of the moment decisions will destroy your future, I insist you make a vow that you will not accept any deals, sign any contracts or give any binding oaths during the party." Dumbledore said. "Like I've told you the previous year, Harry, social events like this are frequented by people who do not hesitate to hurt and exploit others if it means some profit for them. And since you're still not experienced enough to see through their lies, it'd be better if you're simply unable to do anything that might endanger your own future or that of the House Potter."

Harry narrowed his eyes as he considered this… proposition. He really didn't want to bind himself with a vow like that, but it looked like Dumbledore would not let him attend the Yule party, consequences be damned, if he didn't give this vow. Letting out a deep sigh, he nodded.

"Very well, I'll swear to this." He said. Pausing to draw his wand, he continued: "I, Harry James Potter, do swear that I will not enter any agreements, on behalf of myself or my House, that will in any way affect my personal, familial or financial responsibilities during the Yule party of 1991. **So mote it be**." These words were followed by a small flash of light, indicating that Magic has accepted his vow.

"Thank you, Harry, for laying this old man's worries to rest." The Headmaster said after a moment of silence. Another few moments of silence later, he added: "That would be all, my boy, unless you have something you want to talk to me about, of course." Nodding politely despite being angry with the man, the green-eyed Slytherin quickly left his office. As the door closed behind him, Dumbledore let out a small sigh: he had planned to return Harry his father's invisibility cloak for Christmas, but the boy's rash decision to accept the invitation to a social event he was ill-prepared to handle showed that he was still too immature to handle such a powerful artifact responsibly. And this was quite unfortunate as Albus didn't like keeping Harry's family heirloom from him like this.

* * *

"Welcome back, Harry." Flora said the moment she saw her friend enter the Slytherin common room. "What did the Headmaster want from you? Was it about the Yule party as said it would likely be?" She asked then. Harry gave her a nod.

"Yeah, he summoned me to tell me how much he was disappointed that I've accepted Lord MacMillan's invitation. But he also said that it's too late for him to stop me from attending the party anymore." The twins smiled, happy that they'll get a chance to spend some time with him over the holidays. For a few moments Harry wondered, whether he should tell the girls about the vow Dumbledore had him make, but ultimately decided against this.

"So, what are your plans for the holidays, Harry?" Flora asked. "Besides the Yule party, of course."

"Dunno, really." The green-eyed wizard replied with a shrug. "I guess I'll just stay at the 'Leaky Cauldron' and maybe do a bit of shopping." He was also planning to have a curse-breaker check him for any signs of possession or some other Magical phenomenon that might have made him into a parselmouth, but he'd rather keep silent about that.

"You aren't going to your family's place?" Flora asked, not knowing much about his relationship with the Dursleys - that was a topic Harry rarely if ever talked about.

"No, we don't like each other much. It'd be better for everyone if we spend as much time away from each other as possible." The green-eyed wizard replied.

"Sorry." Hestia said.

"Why don't you come stay with us then?" Her sister offered. "I'm sure, grandmother wouldn't mind."

"Perhaps." Harry agreed. From their meeting back in the summer, he got an impression that the regent of the House Carrow found him to be agreeable. "But I'm not sure the rest of your family will be as accommodating." Indeed, some of them were known Death Eaters. "It be quite awkward to share the table with them." He said.

"Yeah, you're right." Flora agreed. Now that she thought about it, her invitation was a bit poorly thought out, but… she just wanted to help her friend.

"It's alright." Harry reassured her, noticing her unease. "And don't worry, I'll be alright by myself, I promise.".

 **~/ *** \~**

Two weeks before the end of the semester, the Headmaster made an announcement that Hogwarts was getting new DADA Professor, a senior Auror no less, who would start teaching in January. That was a great piece of news since, following Professor Quirrell's arrest, the class was taught by whichever other Professor had a free period at the time, resulting in a very haphazard presentation of the material.

A little problem like that, however, wasn't enough to stop Harry from doing well on his end-of-semester test for Defense Against the Dark Arts. He might have not gotten a perfect score, but it was still a definite 'Outstanding'. He did very good on his other tests as well, thus retaining his number two academic ranking among his peers in Slytherin.

The final days of the fall semester flew by without anything noteworthy happening and, after the breakfast on December 21st, Harry joined Flora and Hestia as well as many other students who were leaving Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays. After a pleasant ride in horseless carriages across the snow-covered valley that connected the castle grounds to the village of Hogsmeade, they boarded the Hogwarts Express and departed for London.

Harry and the twins managed to claim a compartment for themselves and, with some crafty spellwork that worked around the train's wards, they made sure that they weren't disturbed impertinently. Thus, their ride to Kings Cross was rather peaceful and uneventful with them sharing some idle talk or just enjoying each others' company… Eventually, though, that had to come to an end as the Hogwarts Express arrived to the platform 9¾.

"Flora, Hestia, welcome back." The regent of the House Carrow greeted her granddaughters as they found her in the crowd. "And you as well, Mr. Potter."

"Good evening, Lady Carrow." Harry greeted the witch back with a polite nod.

"I heard of bad business that happened at Hogwarts this year." She said after a brief moment of silence. "The troll attack and then a Professor who turned out to be an evil man. I'm glad to see that you all are fine." The green-eyed wizard gave her another nod.

"Thank you."

"And, those events, they sound like they have interesting stories behind them. I'd like to hear more about them from you all. But, perhaps, when we aren't in the middle of a crowded platform. I'm sure, you wouldn't mind a bit of rest before that either." Then, after a short pause, she added: "Also, please take this, Mr. Potter." She said, while offering him a small and plain sack. Opening it and glancing inside, Harry saw that it contained a few pinches worth of floo powder.

"Thank you very much." He said sincerely. He didn't have any floo powder on his person and so, to use the public floo, he'd have to buy some from a small stand - which already had a sizable line in front of it.

"Now then, let us be off" Lady Carrow said as the four of them drew near the large fireplace located in the corner of the platform, not far away from the exit to the muggle side of the Kings Cross. Soon enough, it was their turn to use the floo, and Lady Carrow was the first one to disappear in the emerald flames.

"See you at the party, Harry." Flora said before she and Hestia gave him a quick peck on his cheek. Then, the twins followed their grandmother and too floo'ed away. Shaking his head, Harry drew a pinch of powder from the sack and threw it into the fire.

"Leaky Cauldron." He called as the flames turned emerald-green. Then, taking a deep breath as he readied himself for what was to come, he picked his trunk up and stepped into the fire, disappearing from the platform 9¾ a moment later.

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	20. Busy Holidays

And here comes the twentieth chapter, folks! Enjoy!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **Zorobak** , something tells me, that wouldn't be such a great idea...  
 **Digitize27** , same reason he didn't do it this year.  
 **DarkRavie** , **god of all** , **elvander72** , **akasanta** , **Marksbay** , **jamnaz79** , **geekymom** , **llIMagic** , **orion0905** , **The Sinful** , **raw666** , **Eldersprig** , **FuZzvKiNgZz** , **mizzrazz72** , **The Richmaster** , **Apsire** , **ObsessedWithHPFanFic** , **Rori Potter** , **Charles Ceaser** , **Aaeru** , **JPElles** , **Harriverse** , **Guest** , **TheImmortalSlytherin** , **oddfather** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **Purpleeater54** , no, it's not easy to possess someone - I just couldn't find a good way to write about that in the previous chapter. I'm going to mention the 'price' Voldemort had paid for his change of the host during the confrontation in front of the Mirror of Erised. As for making Voldemort more competent... Well, it was either this, of make him a total moron, which would have been even worse. That said, Dumbledore, Director Bones and other 'Good' guys will be more competent in this story as well. So, it evens out?  
 **monkiepawn** , no, Imperius IS single-action renewable spell. If it was a spell that required continuous input from the caster, Crouch Sr. wouldn't have been able to keep his son under it for more than a single day (he goes to sleep, Jr. is free). That said, the duration of Imerpius' effect would be inversely proportional to how much the order given conflicts with what the target wants to do. So, an order of 'do as you would've done with this order' would be totally useless, but the one who was given it would take ages to fight off the curse. As for your second point, element of surprise is capable of greatly reducing mental defenses. Which was enough, just barely, to let Voldemort bruteforce his way though his new host's mental defenses. It wouldn't have worked on someone who was expecting his 'attack'.  
 **Shincore** , yes, Harry will keep Parseltongue - though he'll have to re-train himself in using it - and no, he has it/will have it only because he was in contact with the horcrux for so long. No actual Slytherin (or other serpent-speaker's) blood in Harry. Not in this story, at least.  
 **gginsc** , Dumbledore, eh? Anyway, the situation will be dealt with rather soon.  
 **magitech** , **Spazzman29** , well, yeah, the re-possession came as a bit of an ass-pull, but I did kind-of write myself into a corner there a little. I saw this as a lesser evil. **Spazzman29** , also, take a look at my response to **monkiepawn** regarding the Imperius curse.  
 **Wyrtha** , thank you. *Waves the [Unicorn lives matter] sign*  
 **Yana5** , (:

 *** AN**: I suck at writing parties... And, as always, great thanks to my friend **Skelekitty** for his help in polishing this chapter.

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
" _parseltongue_ "  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text  
_ **spells**

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon  
Chapter XX: Busy Holidays**

"I want to attend the party tonight too! Why won't you let me, father?" Draco whined as he approached his father in the Malfoy manor foyer on the evening of the Yule party. Lucius let out a small sigh.

"Haven't I answered this question several times already? Your behavior while at Hogwarts was not acceptable for the heir of a Noble House of Malfoy."

"This is all Potter's fault! His and that stupid rule's! I have done nothing wrong! I'm a Malfoy and have no need to suck it up to mudbloods!" Draco argued.

"Perhaps, Mr. Potter indeed was the one who promoted this amendment to the Slytherin internal rules. Regardless of that, the rule in question was accepted and now everyone is expected to follow it in public. Your continuous failure to do so only makes the Malfoy name lose face and is the reason behind your punishment. It would do you well to revise my lesson about the importance of keeping up appearances, son." Lucius explained.

"B-But!.." The blond boy tried to object, but his father was adamant.

"No, Draco, you will not be allowed to join your mother and I at the Yule party this year. I would advise using this time to think about the importance of subtlety regarding established rules."

"But, father!.." The younger wizard protested again.

"My decision is final, Draco, you are not going." Lucius said firmly while giving his son a glare that made it quite clear that there was no room for any further argument left. And it worked. Gritting his teeth, Draco turned around and stomped away angrily, his muttering about making Potter pay for this reaching Lucius's ears. The Malfoy patriarch let out a tired sigh. His son's continuous refusal to see the root of his problems in himself and his lack of flexibility when it came to interactions with the people outside of Malfoys' preferred circles was getting quite annoying. The boy needed to learn more about the subtle art of politicking. And the sooner, the better for him.

He was brought out of his thoughts as his wife, stunningly-beautiful as always, joined him in the foyer, finally ready for the party.

"Let us be off, dear." Lucius said. "We shouldn't keep Alfred waiting." Narcissa nodded in response, and the two of them stepped through the floo's green flames to the McMillan manor.

 **~/ *** \~**

He was getting better at it, Harry thought as he stepped through the floo into the McMillan Manor. He might not have done it in a graceful way, but, at the very least, he didn't end up in a heap on the floor, which was quite a progress for him.

"Welcome to the McMillan manor, Heir Potter." A rather tall man with short blond hair and brush-like mustache greeted once the green-eyed youth recovered a little from the head-spinning experience that was the floo travel. "Please follow through the door to your left into the Blue Hall. We will be starting soon." The man added then after a brief glance at the clock on the wall.

"Thank you, Lord McMillan. It's an honor to be there." Harry replied politely. The two wizards shook their hands, and the young Potter proceeded to the Blue Hall. Stepping through the double doors, he found himself in a very spacious room, easily the size of Hogwarts' largest classroom. Most of the Blue Hall was dedicated to one giant dancing floor, with an orchestra in the far corner and some tables with refreshments sitting along the walls.

And there were a lot of wizards and witches in expensive-looking opulent dress robes in there. A few were walking around and greeting others, but the majority seemed to be mingling only within their small groups. From where he was, Harry could see only a handful of familiar faces but, unfortunately, those were the people he didn't interact much if at all at Hogwarts. Greeting the few that actually noticed his arrival with a small, polite bow, he passed into the hall, looking out for his friends.

After a minute or so of walking around, Harry finally spotted the people he was the most eager to see right now: Flora and Hestia. The Carrow twins were standing by a window, making desperate attempt not to look bored out of the mind while their grandmother was talking business with some elderly wizard. Noticing him, the girls quietly waved him.

"Good evening, Heir Potter." They greeted Harry officially as he walked up to them. "It's a pleasure to see you tonight." They said while offering him their hands.

"The pleasure is all mine." He replied, taking the girls' hands. He then kissed each, causing Flora and Hestia to giggle while a pink tinge spread over their cheeks. "You two look fantastic." Harry added then. And, indeed, their dress robes might not have been as opulent as quite a few other, but they looked great and made Flora and Hestia look like (modest) princesses.

"Ah, Heir Potter, I'm pleased that you had no difficulty making it here tonight." Lady Carrow said. "Please let me introduce Mr. Tiberius Ogden, an exemplary businessman and a distiller."

"An honor, Mr. Potter." The elderly wizard said as he shook Harry's hand.

"Likewise." Harry replied politely. With the introductions out of the way, Mr. Ogden returned to his conversation with Lady Carrow, which the young Potter had no interest in: catching up with his friends was far more fun! "So… How were your holidays so far?" He asked the twins.

"Rather quiet, to be honest." Flora replied. "And what about yours?"

"Pretty much the same." Harry said. After a short pause, he continued, changing the topic: "Have you seen any of our classmates around here? I saw a few people from Hogwarts, but none of them were Slytherins. Or even from our year."

"Hm..." Hestia breathed out thoughtfully. "I think, I saw the Greengrass family arriving a little while ago. Shall we go look for them?" The green-eyed Potter nodded, and the three of them excused themselves to Lady Carrow and Mr. Ogden, leaving in search for the Greengrass sisters. After a couple of minutes they found Daphne and Astoria talking to Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. Strangely, Daphne's nearly inseparable friend, Tracey, seemed to not be with them.

"Harry, Flora, Hestia, nice to see you!" The dark-skinned boy called as the 'older' trio approached. He then shook Harry's hand while the girls greeted each other with quick pecks on their cheeks. "How are you all this fine night?" The Italian-born wizard asked next.

"We're doing well." Flora replied for the three of them. "And how are you?"

"So are we." Blaise replied. "Though some of us are a bit too impatient for the party to start." He then added while nodding towards Astoria, who, indeed, looked ready to embark on a dance the moment the music started playing.

"Yeah, little 'Tori can be quite a ball of restless energy sometimes." Daphne supplied 'helpfully' while ruffling her sister's hair lightly. After a short pause, during which she stole a glance at the clock, she continued: "Hm… We have only a few minutes before the party starts, but it doesn't look like the Notts, Malfoys and Bones are here yet." Harry shrugged.

"No, we haven't seen them either..." He cut off as he saw a familiar face moving through the crowds. "Speak of the Devil..." He muttered under his breath, before calling out as loud as was appropriate in the current situation: "Theodore!" Hearing his name, the young Nott stopped and turned around. Noticing his housemates calling for his attention, he excused himself to his parents and moved to join his friends.. "Evening." Harry greeted him.

"Good evening, everyone. Sorry for being a bit late, there was an issue back home that delayed our departure slightly."

"Don't worry about that; you're right on time." Pansy reassured him. "Are you looking forward to the party, Theo?"

A couple of minutes later, their conversation, which began gravitating towards Hogwarts and other school-related topics, was interrupted by Lord McMillan's Magically-amplified voice filling the Blue Hall:

"Good evening, Ladies and gentlewizards, and welcome to the Yule Party of 1991! Before we begin the celebrations, let me say a few words about the outgoing year." And the man proceeded to give a speech about the ups and down of the past year and his vision of the coming one. It was mostly about politics related stuff, so Harry didn't find it to be particularly interesting.

Finally, everything was said and Lord McMillan made a rather pretentious wand movement, signalling the band to start playing. Flora and Hestia took this as their cue and offered Harry their hands. And once he took them, the twins wasted no time in pulling him towards the center of the hall, where the first pairs were starting their dance.

* * *

A few dances later, Harry found himself at one of the tables set along the walls of the Blue hall, picking some refreshments for himself, Flora and Hestia. And just as he was about to return, he almost ran into a tall man with long blonde hair, whom he, after a moment, recognized as Lucius Malfoy, the current Lord of the Noble House of Malfoy.

"Good evening, Lord Malfoy." He greeted the man. "It's a pleasure to finally make acquaintances with you." The older wizard nodded.

"Likewise, Heir Potter." There was the briefest of moments of silence, before he added: "I must say, I'm delighted to see that you've managed to overcome whichever obstacles that kept you from attending the Yule party the previous year." His words sounded quite genuine, but Harry couldn't help but feel that the Lord Malfoy was still quite disappointed in him for not being able to attend the party he had hosted.

"As am I." Harry said. "Alas, my being able to be here tonight has a lot to do with Lady Luck finally smiling upon me. I will have to think of new ways to work around the Headmaster to attend events like this in the future."

"I see..." Lucius said after a bit of a pause. "I wish you best luck then, Heir Potter." The green-eyed wizard nodded.

"Thank you, Lord Malfoy." After a moment of silence Harry continued: "It was a pleasure to talk you, but I'm afraid, I've kept my ladies waiting for long enough." The blond wizard nodded slowly, continuing on to his wife. Letting out a sigh after a few seconds, Harry carefully made his way to where Flora and Hestia were waiting for his return.

 **~/ *** \~**

"Good morning. Please tell your curse-breakers that I've arrived." Harry said as he gave a letter to a Gringotts teller. The goblin behind the counter studied the parchment for a few long moments, and once he had confirmed that it was no forgery, he summoned one of the 'errand boys'.

" _Boneclaw, escort Mr. Potter to the waiting room number seventeen and notify Senior Curse-Breaker Grimlance that his client has arrived._ " The teller instructed the younger goblin in gobbledegook, who nodded quickly, before turning his attention to the green-eyed wizard.

"Please follow me, Mr. Potter." And with that he errand-goblin headed for one of the many doors leading out of the Gringotts atrium. Harry, who'd rather not be left behind, quickly followed his 'guide'... After a few minutes of navigating through the maze of corridors, they arrived to a long, brightly-lit hallway with numerous doors lining its walls. The goblin stopped at the door with a golden number '17' on it.

"Please wait inside, Mr. Potter. Senior Curse-Breaker Grimlance shall be there momentarily." He said as he unlocked and opened the door. Nodding, Harry stepped inside the waiting room. It wasn't especially big - maybe twice the size of the Dursleys' guestroom - but certainly looked quite comfortable with three sofas around a coffee table. Taking a seat, the green-eyed youth waited for the curse-breaker to arrive.

And just like the errand-goblin promised, the curse-breaker joined him not five minutes later. He was an imposing goblin with a number of prominent Magical scars on whatever skin wasn't hidden under dragonhide armor. He was also carrying an ornate dagger on his belt an array of various golden trinkets that, probably, were his curse-breaking tools.

"Mr. Potter, I presume? I'm Gringotts' Senior Curse-Breaker Grimlance. I've been told, you wish to employ my services." The goblin said. Harry nodded.

"Yes, I'd like you to examine my scar." He said, pointing at the infamous lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. "A ...person I trust was concerned that there might be some foreign and likely not benign Magic residing within it."

"I see..." Grimlance said. "I can do that. We'll have to relocate to one of the ritual chambers, though. I'm afraid, the current setting won't be conductive to the proper in-depth examination of cursed scars." Once Harry gave him a nod of agreement, the goblin curse-breaker led him out of the waiting room. Another walk through the maze of corridors and stairs, and they arrived to a barren circular room, lit by a number of strange Magical torches that burned with cold blue flames. "Please remove any enchanted items you might be wearing and lie down on the floor in the center of the room, Mr. Potter" The goblin instructed.

The floor was cold and not at all comfortable, but Harry didn't complain and just lay there quietly while the Grimlance drew some strange runes around him. Once he was done, the curse-breaker began chanting in gobbledegook, which caused the runes to lit up with the same cold-blue light. Then, a moment or two later, the young wizard felt unfamiliar Magic probing him. It was not a nice sensation, but he grit his teeth and bore with it… After what felt like hours, the goblin had all the information he needed and stopped channeling his Magic into the runes.

"There is indeed a strong presence of a foreign Magic centered around your scar, Mr. Potter." Grimlance said. "I believe I can identify its nature already, but I'd like to make an additional examination to be completely sure." The green-eyed wizard nodded.

"Of course." The goblin immediately went back to work. Removing the old set of runes, he drew a new, much more elaborate, one. Once done, he began chanting, once again subjecting Harry to that uncomfortable feeling of being deep-scanned with Magic.

"Yes, as I thought, your scar is a horcrux." Grimlance said once he finished examining the young Potter's infamous scar. Seeing the confusion on his client's face, the goblin elaborated: "It means, a piece of soul that belongs to another being resides there. And while it might be impossible for me to determine who made this horcrux, that recent Dark Lord of yours, Voldemort, I believe, would be a likely candidate." This revelation shocked Harry to his very core and made him feel dirty and violated. He also couldn't help but suddenly fear that the previously-dormant piece of soul would try to take over him, now that it has been discovered. He really didn't want to give his body away to that monster in human form.

"C-can it be removed?" He asked, once he finally regained the faculty of speech, hoping beyond hope for a positive answer. Thankfully, his little wish was granted:

"Yes, that can be done." The curse-breaker said. "However doing without causing you permanent harm is beyond my abilities. You will need to hire a Master Curse-Breaker, possible entire team of them, for this job." That sounded expensive, but Harry would give pretty much anything to get rid of that abomination. "Furthermore, the only ritual to safely extract a horcrux that I know of requires seven days of preparations, so I suggest you book the curse-breakers' services well in advance, Mr. Potter."

 **~/ *** \~**

"...And here are the changes to the lesson plans that I propose, Headmaster." Terrence Mire, an Auror-turned-teacher, said as he handed Dumbledore a piece of parchment. "I must say, I was surprised by how neutral and professional they were, considering that they were written by a very Dark wizard. I found only a handful of things that, I believe, need to be changed."

"Thank you, Terrence." The aged warlock said, accepting the parchment. "I'll send you a note with an elf when I finish reviewing your suggestions." Nodding, the DADA Professor was about to leave, when Dumbledore stopped him. "One more thing, Terrence. I'm not sure, whether Amelia… Whether Director Bones has told you that there used to be an object of extreme value safeguarded within the castle. The object in question has since been removed from the school, but its protections still require an update. Thus, when you have time, I'd like you to implement some form of a protection in a form of a trap room, Terrence." Dumbledore asked. The other man nodded in response.

"I will try to think of something when I have a bit of free time."

"Thank you." The aged warlock said, before dismissing his newest DADA Professor, who gave him a small nod, before walking out of the Headmaster's office.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Voldemort let a crooked grin split his temporary face: the old fool was far too trusting. The Dark Lord had been afraid that he'll have to waste his host's remaining time searching for the Philosopher's Stone's new location, but Dumbledore was seemingly giving it to him for free. Perhaps, he might actually get his new, perfect body **much** sooner than he expected!

* * *

Meanwhile, Dumbledore was sitting in his office, deep in thought. His skill in detecting Magic allowed him to 'see' the dark taint clinging to his new DADA Professor. It was much the same with what he had observed around Quirinius and, knowing that the man had been working for Voldemort, this was quite unsettling. He tried to think up a reasonable explanation for this taint, but the only idea he could come up with were branding Magic and direct possession. In either case, this was bad news as it meant that the Dark Lord managed to get an Auror under his control. And the chances were, he had already used Terrence to do further damage within the Ministry. He needed to notify Amelia about this immediately!

"Director of the DMLE office." He called as he threw a pinch of floo powder into a fireplace sitting in a corner of his office. It looked like Lady Luck was on his side and Madam Director was still at her workplace. "Good evening, Amelia." He greeted her.

"Good evening." The witch returned without much enthusiasm. "Is there something I can do for you, Dumbledore?" The aged warlock nodded.

"Yes. I bring you news of grave importance." Pausing for a brief moment, Dumbledore continued. "I'm afraid Quirinius - Mr. Quirrell - hadn't been acting on his own, and whoever controlled him managed to compromise your corps and, possibly, the rest of the Ministry. I know that the Aurors have semi-annual checks for the Imperius curse and other means of Magical mind manipulation, but, if memory serves, the next one is in May. I implore you, Amelia, to have an unscheduled one as soon as possible. And extend it to all departments of the Ministry."

"Those are some very serious claims, Dumbledore." Madam Bones said with a deep frown. "I would like to see the source of your information and verify that it is trustworthy. And, assuming I do perform an unscheduled check, I'll have to recall senior Auror Mire, your current DADA professor."

"I'm afraid, I can't disclose my sources to you, Amelia." Albus replied. "If you start investigating them, it might alert the Dark Wizard standing behind all this that you're aware of his doings before the Ministry is cleared of his agents. If he decides to strike, it can do untold amounts of damage. Same with Terrence Mire, he must remain at Hogwarts. I will personally deal with him." Amelia let out a dissatisfied growl: she really hated it when people kept such crucial information to themselves. That said, she also knew Dumbledore well enough to know that he wouldn't contact her like this if it wasn't very important.

"Fine." She said finally. "But once this is over, you _will_ disclose your sources to me." She demanded.

"Of course." The aged warlock agreed, before ending the floo call. Returning to his table, he couldn't help but hope that whatever Voldemort was trying to do with his latest scheme hasn't done too much damage to the DMLE and the Ministry as a whole yet. And while he will let Amelia handle cleaning up the Ministry, he needed to tighten the wards around Hogwarts to ensure that Voldemort wouldn't be able to hurt the school's students through Terrence. And, if his guess that the Voldemort was actually possessing the poor man was spot on, he also needed to update his own safeguard for the Philosopher's Stone. Tom was nothing if not a cruel, ruthless and resourceful bastard, and the Greater Good will suffer greatly, should the Dark Lord succeed in his quest to regain a body...

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	21. One Man's Defeat

It's been awhile folks! This story isn't dead though, and here's the twenty first chapter for you to enjoy!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **JPElles** , **Darth-Vulturnus** , **iitrnr** , **DarkRavie** , **Yana5** , **mizzrazz72** , **TigerWolf** , **lonewolf 83** , **Ranmaleopard** , **ObsessedWithHPFanFic** , **jamnaz79** , **naruto** (guest), **skigirl51** (guest), **Anon** (guest), **Melikalilly** , **mumphie** , **HelL4DAluCarD** , **TheImmortalSlytherin** , **Ciel Moony** , **Master of Dragons God** , **richard333** , **Guest** , **draconianking** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **magitech** , **orion0905** , yeah, I think it is kinda stupid that in canon Dumbledore barely did anything about Voldemort until after he got himself a new body. Here he's going to be a bit more proactive.  
 **Eldersprig** , Amelia isn't exactly a fan of Dumbledore here, and she'll tear him a new one for what he did (or, rather, what he didn't fast enough).  
 **Some Guy In An Ambulance** , you speak the truth, man. It's hard to believe Dumbledore to be as incompetent as some stories like to portray him (even if we assume that three quarters of Magical Britain are sheeple), given all of the positions of power he has.  
 **Tsukikageshi** , thank you for your kind words, and I hope I won't be disappointing you with where my story is going.  
 **Wyrtha** , all things considered, I'm not ruling out the possibility of Harry telling Dumbledore that he had a horcrux removed from his scar if/when Dumbledore brings their existence up. Actually, now that I think about it, that might happen way sooner than sixth year...  
 **LordSinnoh** , **hotkillerz** , Harry actually wanted to avoid joining the Quidditch team, it was Flint who wanted him to. And, yeah, I should probably expand on Harry's friendships and how they came to be. I'll try to think something up.

 *** AN**: As always, great thanks to my friend **Skelekitty** for his help in polishing this chapter.

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
" _parseltongue_ "  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text  
_ **spells**

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon  
Chapter XXI: One Man's Defeat Is Another Man's Victory**

"You look troubled, Harry." Flora observed just as the Hogwarts express departed from Kings Cross. "Did something happen over the holidays?" Her question made the green-eyed youth sigh inwardly. The girls knew him too well to be fooled by his act. Still, he didn't want them to worry about the Dark Lord's horcrux stuck in his forehead. And, it wasn't like they could do anything about it anyway.

"Don't worry about that, it's nothing serious. Just a little personal issue." He lied as he gave them the most believable smile he could muster at the moment. Flora hummed in a way that made it quite clear she wasn't convinced by his word.

"If you say so…" There was a small pause, before she offered: "If you ever need help..." Harry nodded.

"Of course." Deciding to change the topic of their conversation, he then asked: "Any idea, who our new DADA Professor will be?" The twins shrugged.

"None." Hestia replied. "But whoever they are, they are going to use the same textbook as Professor Quirrell did. I just hope, they will be easier to understand. That constant stuttering made following the lesson really difficult." Harry nodded in agreement, silently hoping that whoever this new Professor was, they'll be at least somewhat competent and their choice to use the same textbook as Professor Quirrell was made for the sake of the students and not because they couldn't teach anything by themselves.

 **~/ *** \~**

Unlike September first, there normally was no feast at the beginning of the spring semester, so the students could grab some dinner at any time between seven and eight in the evening. This year, however, the Headmaster asked everyone to gather at the Great Hall at seven o'clock sharp, so that he could introduce the new DADA Professor to them properly. And, indeed, as Harry and his housemates filtered into the Great Hall, they could see a new face at the Professors' table, occupying the seat traditionally reserved for the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.

And, to be honest, the man looked surprisingly unimpressive despite being, supposedly, a skillful and experienced wizard. He was of average height, stoutish, and looked like he hadn't had good rest in days. His short dark hair was rather unkempt and showed the first signs of falling off. Still, this man was a capable wizard who had seen his share of action, as a cursed scar partially hidden by a goatee on the left side of his jaw could attest.

"Good evening, and, to those who chose to spend Yuletide with their families and friends outside of the castle, welcome back to Hogwarts." Dumbledore said as he rose out of his golden throne-like chair. "Some of you might wonder, why I've asked you all to attend the dinner tonight together. Well, the answer is simple: I would like to introduce you our new DADA Professor, Senior Auror Terence Mire." he said, gesturing towards the man in question, who then stood up and took the proverbial floor.

"Thank you, Professor." The Auror said to the Headmaster, before addressing the student body. "As Professor Dumbledore said, I'm Senior Auror Terence Mire and I will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts during the coming semester. I hope that this will be a productive time for all of us. Thank you." Bowing curtly in response to a round of applause the Great Hall was giving him, Professor Mire retook his seat. With the man's introduction out of the way, Dumbledore saw no reason to further delay the dinner and with a tap of his wand to his golden goblet he signalled the elves to put the dinner onto the tables.

"Hm…" Harry hummed as he put some pork chop onto his plate. "Is it just me, or something isn't quite right with Professor Mire?" He asked Flora and Hestia, who were sitting next to him. "I don't know how to explain it, but to me it feels like there is something not quite right about him." The twins, however, could not feel anything wrong about their new DADA Professor:

"It's just you, Harry." Flora told him. "Professor Mire isn't very handsome, sure, but that doesn't make him evil." Hestia nodded in agreement with her sister. Then, with a sly grin, Flora added: "You know, Harry, not every DADA professor that isn't your beloved Professor Armstrong is evil."

 **~/ *** \~**

Later that evening, after the girls have gone to bed, Harry spoke to Salazar's portrait:

" _Welcome back, young Speaker._ " The Lord Slytherin greeted him. " _Were you successful in determining what Magics reside in your scar?_ " He asked then.

" _Thank you, my Lord, and yes._ " The green-eyed Potter replied with a nod. " _I hired a Curse-Breaker to take a look at my scar, and they were able to identify the Dark Magics within to be a horcrux._ " The Founder's portrait raised an eyebrow.

" _A horcrux? I'm afraid, I'm not familiar with that term._ "

" _A horcrux is a piece of soul that is stored in an object and prevents its creator from passing on, should their body be killed._ " Harry repeated the explanation that curse-breaker Grimlance gave him.

" _I see…_ " Salazar said, nodding to himself. " _In my times, a different name was used for this brand of Magics. Regardless, it's a very Dark Magic, and one that undoubtedly damages the caster. And while I can't claim that I'm much knowledgeable about these… horcruxes, I was under the impression that only inanimate objects could be used to store soul pieces._ "

" _It would seem that humans work just as well._ " Harry replied. " _The Curse-Breaker said that they have never had a case like me before, but they were quite positive that the soul fragment can be removed from my scar safely._ " And that was something he was very glad about. _"The necessary ritual, however, is quite complex and requires lengthy preparations. I've scheduled it for the summer holidays._ " The Lord Slytherin nodded.

" _Good. Such abomination shouldn't exist, much less within a student of my school and my house. It must be destroyed as soon as possible._ " There was a bit of a pause, before he added: " _I hope, you've picked a skillful and trustworthy Curse-Breaker to do the job._ "

" _I'm hiring a team of goblin Master Curse-Breakers._ " Harry replied. " _It's rather expensive, but they guarantee that I will walk away from the ritual alive and free form the horcrux._ " Salazar's portrait let out a quiet hum.

" _While I do have my share of prejudices against the goblinkind, you've made a sound decision to hire them for the job. They might be greedy little bastards, but they will honor any written contract binding them to the best of their ability. And, you can trust them to keep the existence of the horcrux a secret. There will be no end to problems, should the knowledge about it fall into the wrong hands._ " Harry nodded: he didn't doubt that there were 'reformed' Death Eaters that would go out of their way to bring back their Dark Lord, should they learn he was still around in some form.

" _Thank you, Sir._ "

" _Now, young Speaker, I believe your classes resume tomorrow._ " Salazar said after a short pause. " _As entertaining as you might find my company, you should probably go get a full night's sleep._ " Taking a glance at the clock, Harry noticed that it indeed was getting pretty late in the night and the common room was mostly empty, save for a few upper year students still working on their homework.

" _Of course, Sir._ " He said.

 **~/ *** \~**

Teaching children was hard, Voldemort realized as he sank tiredly into an admittedly nice armchair in his office. He had always dismissed Quirinius' complaints as the man just being lazy and uncooperative, but, apparently, teaching indeed was a tiring and time-consuming job. And time wasn't something he had in abundance.

Indeed, the body he was currently inhabiting was was already showing the first signs of rejecting his soul, and even with powerful Magical means to extend his time like unicorn blood, he still had only two, at most three, months left to steal the Philosopher's Stone and uncover its secrets. There simply was no time left for him to waste if he wanted to rise back to glory.

Shaking his head, he drew his wand and got back to working on the "trap" he had promised to make for the old fool. Of course, the real purpose of this intricate piece of Magic was a bit different. While it indeed could ward off would-be thieves, it actually was a backdoor that he could use to steal the Stone for himself. And to sneak that past Dumbledore he had to put a lot of effort into his work.

 **~/ *** \~**

It has now been almost three weeks since the spring semester began, and Harry still was on the fence about the new DADA Professor.

On one hand, the man was quite a decent teacher. He wasn't great like Professor Armstrong, but he was a definite improvement over the stuttering mess that Professor Quirrell had been during his lectures. On the other hand, the young Potter just couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off about the wizard. He couldn't quite put it into words, but to him it felt like there was something vile lurking under the man's skin

Unfortunately for him, he seemed to be the only one to feel like that: none of his classmates had noticed anything. Even Flora and Hestia didn't believe him, saying that it likely was a trick his mind was playing to somehow justify his dislike of Professor Mire.

And Harry had to admit that they might actually be right. Still, he wouldn't completely ignore the odd feeling as there probably was a good reason why his Magic kept telling him to be wary of the man. Now, if only he could understand _why_ it was doing so...

 **~/ *** \~**

With his "trap" finally installed at the end of the previous week, Voldemort was at long last ready to go after the Philosopher's Stone. Conveniently, Dumbledore - the only wizard capable of stopping him - was out of the castle on some Wizengamot business for the rest of the day.

Thus, as soon as the classes were over for the day, Voldemort retreated to his office and set up a ward to keep people away by making them think that he was he was working on something important and mustn't be disturbed. That done, he used the backdoor he had installed into his "trap" to portkey himself into the chamber the said "trap" occupied.

Disabling the whole thing with a quick wave of his wand, the Dark Lord carefully approached the door leading out of the room and cast a series of arcane detection Charms on it which revealed that the old fool might actually be more prudent than he gave him credit for. Indeed, there we three different wards set to send out an alert when someone tried to open the door plus another masterfully-hidden ward that would alert Dumbledore, should any of the other three be tampered with.

Finding a way around these wards took Voldemort quite a bit of time, but at last he was ready to proceed. Walking through the door, he found himself in room that contained only table with seven differently shaped bottles sitting on it in a line and a piece of parchment. As soon as he approached the table, however, the Dark Lord found himself trapped between walls of cursed fire.

Apparently, he was supposed to do something with those bottles in order to proceed. Interesting, but he had no time to waste on some stupid puzzle. With a wave of his wand Voldemort tried to vanish the flames and… the Charm did nothing. He then tried a few other spells for putting out fires, but none of them managed to do anything about the wall of fire in front of him. A fire-freezing spell, likewise, achieved no discernable results. Even conjuration was a no go as he soon discovered: the cursed fire ate through a foot-thick slab of concrete in a blink of an eye. It looked like he had to solve that damn puzzle after all…

According to the parchment on the table, three of the bottles contained poison, two - wine and the final two - some potion than will enable one to cross either wall of fire safely. A quick detection Charm, however, showed that it was a lie: all seven bottles were poisoned. That said, the three announced in parchment indeed contained much more lethal and fast-acting concoctions.

Discarding those bottles as well as the ones with wine, Voldemort was left with the two that, supposedly, would protect him from the fire. Now, which one of these two would let him advance towards the Philosopher's Stone? His intuition told him that it was the smaller bottle, but it would be quite foolish to just hope that he was right. Thus, he conjured a small snake and fed it a drop of the potion, before throwing through the flame. Witnessing no signs of the reptile being burned to ashes, the Dark Lord concluded it was indeed the potion he needed. Now, he just needed a way to counteract the poison in it...

A bezoar would be ideal but, unfortunately, he hadn't thought to bring one along for this little 'adventure'. What he did bring along was a small vial of unicorn blood, and while it probably wouldn't protect him from the poison's side-effects, it would keep him alive for long enough to get a bezoar or another antidote once he got his hands on the Stone. With that in mind, Voldemort drank the potion from the bottle, which made him feel like he swallowed an iceberg, and stepped through the wall of fire. Once on the other side, he gulped down the unicorn blood.

With the poison in the potion hopefully neutralized, the Dark Lord turned his attention to the door leading out of the room. He was pretty certain that the old fool had put monitoring wards on this one as well, and a detection Charm confirmed his suspicions: there indeed were skillfully-hidden monitoring wards - all different from the ones he had encountered earlier - on this door. After wasting almost an hour on finding a way around these wards, he was finally ready to advance to the next room.

After walking a long and narrow corridor, Voldemort found himself in a big circular chamber with a large ornate mirror sitting in its center. There were no other routes out of this room, meaning that it contained the final "trial" he had to overcome on his way to acquiring the Philosopher's Stone.

"Let us see, what the great and mighty Dumbledore has come up with to keep me away from the Stone." He said as he carefully approached the mirror. While the object itself was without a doubt exceptionally Magical, there seemed to be only one recent modification to it - one that allowed a conditionally-released object to be placed within it.

Cautiously moving in front of the mirror, he looked into it and immediately saw himself holding a modestly-sized bright-red stone. So that's what the Philosopher's Stone looked like. Interesting, but useless as it didn't tell him anything about how to pull it out of the mirror… Meanwhile, the mirror switched to showing him a different vision. In it he was already in possession of an alchemically-created perfect and immortal body, his enemies crushed under his feet. If this was what awaited him in the future - great, but it still gave him no idea how to get the damned Stone…

The mirror continued showing Voldemort various scenes of him either obtaining the power of the Stone or using his newly-acquired might to destroy his enemies, conquer the world and purge the filthy muggles and mudbloods, but there were no clues on how to actually get the Philosopher's Stone out of this mirror. And, eventually, the Dark Lord grew tired of this. If the mirror wasn't going to be helpful, then he'll just take what will be his by force!

The moment he tired to move from his spot, however, he discovered that something was very, very wrong. He couldn't move his legs anymore, nor could he look away from the accursed mirror. Then, the powers that be decided to make his situation even worse as he heard the door leading into the room open. Immediately, his instincts honed throughout the many battles in the past cried for him to guard himself against an incoming attack. Knowing better than to ignore his intuition, he quickly summoned an omni-directional shield. A moment later an extremely powerful stunner collided into this shield, actually causing it to break.

"Good evening,.. Tom." Voldemort heard the unmistakable voice of the old fool. "I hope you're enjoying the Mirror of Erised and the trial I've built around it."

"Dumbledore!.." The Dark Lord hissed. "I'll make you pay for this!" Raising his wand and in the direction of the Hogwarts' Headmaster, he released a powerful area-of-effect curse, hoping to at least wound his greatest enemy with it. Albus Dumbledore, however, wasn't one of the greatest wizards of the modern times for nothing, and swiftly summoned a silvery shield to protect himself.

"Now, now, Tom, that's not how you greet your old teacher." He replied in that annoying grandfatherly tone of his, making Voldemort growl angrily and blindly toss a few killing curses in his direction. None of those connected as the old man nimbly dodged them all.

"Release me from your cowardly trap and fight me like a proper wizard!" Tom demanded, as he kept struggling to tear his eyes away from the cursed mirror.

"I'm here to apprehend or eliminate you, Tom." Dumbledore answered. "Why would I make my job harder just to please you?" He punctuated his question with an obscure modification of a stunning spell that Voldemort barely managed to shield himself against. "Surrender. You aren't leaving this room free; the wards will not allow it."

"And you're telling me that you found a way to entrap me, the greatest wizard of the modern times?" The self-proclaimed Heir of Slytherin asked, hoping to make the old fool slip away something that might help him beat the trap and get the Stone out of the mirror.

"Indeed I did, Tom." The Hogwarts Headmaster confirmed. "You've been caught the moment you looked into the Mirror of Erised, and there is no way for you leave this room without my consent." Voldemort really wanted to contest this claim but, unfortunately, being rooted to the ground and unable to even look away from the damned mirror made it impossible for him to beat the old fool.

What a loathsome situation…

And the only way out of this mess that he could see was to abandon his current body and _flee_. Certainly not something that he ever wanted to do. Still, setting his plans for a triumphant return back a decade - he had expended all of the strength he had managed to recover on taking over that inept Auror - was preferable to the utter and complete defeat that letting Dumbledore capture him would be.

Thus, with an exertion of will Voldemort ejected himself from his mortal shell. It was far from a pleasant experience and it took him a couple of seconds to get himself together. Thankfully, the old fool was too stunned by his emergence to do anything in the meantime.

"You might have delayed my return, Dumbledore." The now-disembodied Dark Lord called. "But I will rise again soon, and you are powerless to stop me. Enjoy your pointless victory while you can, old fool. I'll reshape the world in my image whether you like it or not." And with those words he flew away. The wards in the room's walls tried to stop him, but being less than a ghost had its advantages too, it seems, and he managed to force his way through.

As Tom's smoky-black form disappeared from his sight, Dumbledore let out a deep, tired sigh. He knew, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud, that he was an old man, and that the world might have to fight against Voldemort and his forces without without his guiding hand. Perhaps it was the time he contacted the Order of the Phoenix to start preparing them for the coming conflict? He'd also need to research the means Tom used to cheat death, so that the Dark Lord could finally be vanquished once and for all.

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	22. The Changes Are Coming

And here's the twenty second chapter of "A Year Too Soon"! Enjoy!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **mwinter1** , **Clavyus** , **elvander72** , **Gabriel Herrol** , **Jostanos** , **orion0905** , **DarkRavie** , **Some Guy In An Ambulance** , **ObsessedWithHPFanFic** , **Yana5** , **Charles Ceaser** , **JPElles** , **geekymom** , **Harriverse** , **Jamnaz79** , **moonl337** , **Guest** #1, **Guest** #2, **BillBrink** , **nkh1** , **Silo666** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **Wyrtha** , unicorns are safe. Plus, Voldemort has been beaten even worse than in canon here, mostly through his own gamble backfiring. In fact, he probably won't recover enough to really do anything by the time canon's fourth year rolls around - there will be a (slightly) different plot going on during the Triwizard Tournament.  
 **Innortal** , well, I'm not a professional writer, so there will _always_ be something that can be improved.  
 **mizzrazz72** , I actually don't intent to explain that presently. Let it stay a mystery.  
 **magitech** , heh. But I think he might take his chances even if his forces outnumber his targets at only five to one. ;) Truthfully, I think that giving Voldemort a moral myopia in that everything he does is 'good' and everything he doesn't like is 'bad' wouldn't cause too much of a derailment for his character. He's a Dark Lord with a soul split into pieces, after all.  
 **Darth-Vulturnus** , well, yeah those are tired cliches for Dumbledore and I try my best to avoid falling into them. I'm not sure I'm actually doing a good job there, though. My Dumbledore still isn't as visibly-proactive as he should probably be, and I don't really know how to change without splitting the story into "Dumbledore fixes things" and "Harry woos the Carrow twins" mostly-independent parts.  
 **SpeedisArmour** , thank you.  
 **pottersparky** , I'm making some noticeable changes to the CoS plot, so I currently don't have an idea how to include Dobby. The little guy needs saving though...  
 **Aeroza** , why would I do that? Or, to be more precise, what will be their role in this story? - I currently have no plotlines that could even use a new element such as the one you are suggesting.  
 **Overfic23** , in the original idea, the basilisk would kinda just remain down there once the diary is dealt with. I might be able to think up something different, though.  
 **mab70** , the answer to the first question is 'no'. As for the second - it will be resolved soon enough, so you'll have to wait and see.

 *** AN**: As always, great thanks to my friend **Skelekitty** for his help in polishing this chapter.

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
" _parseltongue_ "  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text  
_ **spells**

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon  
Chapter XXII: The Changes Are Coming**

"Good evening, Amelia." Dumbledore greeted as he reached the Director of the DMLE over the floo network. "May I come through?" He asked then. Madam Bones put aside a lengthy report she had been reading and gave the old warlock a nod.

"What can I do for you tonight, Professor?" Amelia asked, even though her gut feeling was telling her that this wasn't a social visit and that Albus was bearing bad news.

"I'm here to inform you that the situation at Hogwarts has been resolved." The Chief Warlock told her. "Furthermore, my investigation into the Dark Wizard behind late Mr. Quirrell and the compromised Ministry workers has finally born a fruit."

"Please share your findings, Professor. My people were unable to track this Dark Wizard down." Madam Bones said. "But before that, where is Senior Auror Mire?"

"About that,.." Albus began. "I'm afraid, I have some grave news for you, Amelia. Terence didn't make it through." Seeing Amelia rise out of her chair menacingly, he quickly clarified: "He had been possessed by a Dark spirit and his body couldn't handle the stress." This didn't placate the Madam Director, if anything it made her only angrier.

"You let something this dangerous near children?!" She almost roared. The aged warlock opened his mouth, but Amelia didn't let him say a single word. "Don't even try, Dumbledore!" The witch hissed. "I've known you for long enough to be sure that wherever you've moved your trap was still within a spitting distance from Hogwarts. You keep playing with people's lives, Dumbledore, and now your games have cost me an Auror."

"The appearance of that Dark spirit wasn't something even I could have foreseen. And, had there been anything I could've done to save Terence, he would've still been alive and well." Albus replied. His words were followed by a lengthy pause.

"What is this 'Dark spirit' you're talking about?" Madam Bones asked him. Dumbledore didn't reply immediately. Instead, he drew his wand and waved it around, testing the privacy wards around the office. Once satisfied that those wards were as strong as they could be, the old warlock finally gave his answer:

"Voldemort." Amelia shivered slightly upon hearing that name. No, she didn't have a panic fear of it like many witches and wizards of Great Britain did, but it did bring up many terrible memories.

"Are you sure?" She asked after a few long seconds of complete silence.

"I am, unfortunately." Albus replied with a nod. "I do not yet know what exactly he had become and how he managed to stay in this world after his failed attempt to kill young Harry Potter all those years ago, but that Dark spirit was definitely him. I've managed to send him fleeing tonight, but there is no doubt that he'll be seeking another way to return soon." This was followed by another period of uneasy silence.

"This… certainly complicates things." The Director of the DMLE said finally. "And, I believe you want this knowledge to be kept a secret. Or, at least restricted to my Department and, possibly, the Unspeakables." Dumbledore nodded.

"Yes, I'd prefer it if you keep the number of people who know that the Dark Lord isn't truly dead to a minimum, at least until we know more about the method he used to cheat death and the ways to get around it." He said. "The last thing we want is his followers learning that their Master is still around and aiding him in his quest for a new body."

"This is agreeable." Amelia said. "However, you still have to explain to me how the Dark Lord was able to get this close to Hogwarts. Didn't you repair and upgrade the wards around the castle after the troll incident?" She asked then.

"As I said, I don't know what exactly Voldemort has become, but whatever he is, it is something I have never encountered before." Dumbledore replied. "His current form has properties similar to those of a ghost or a poltergeist, yet different enough from them that wards designed to detect or contain those aren't triggered by him. I'm afraid, Amelia, that until I know more about what exactly the Dark Lord is right now, the only thing I can do to protect Hogwarts from him is be extra vigilant and personally confront him, should he show up anywhere near the castle."

"Then you better make sure you can keep this constant vigilance of yours up." The Madam Director said, sending the man a glare. "If the Dark Lord so much as touches a **single hair** on a student under your care, then Merlin help me, I'll do all I can to destroy you." She threatened.

"Don't worry, Amelia. I will do everything in my power to protect Hogwarts and her students." Dumbledore promised her.

"But can you keep this promise while also working as the Chief Warlock of Wizengamot and the Supreme Mugwump of ICW?" The witch asked. "Recent events show that you might not be able to devote as much time as needed to your job as the Headmaster." Albus fell silent for a good few seconds. Then he let out a deep sigh.

"Perhaps, you're right, Amelia." He said. "I'm certainly not getting any younger. It might indeed be the time for me to step down from those positions and devote all of my time to bringing Hogwarts' students up into the best wizards and witches they can be." Madam Bones nodded.

"Don't forget that keeping them all safe and healthy is also your responsibility, one that you seemingly haven't been fulfilling recently." The Director of the DMLE told him. "If another incident like the one this past Halloween takes place, I'll be raising a question of replacing you with someone who can actually run the school competently with the Board of Governors."

"I'm sure, there will be no reason for you to do that." Dumbledore replied.

"I certainly hope so." Amelia said. Then, after a brief pause, she continued: "Now, if you excuse me, I have to make plans so that the Auror force is prepared, should the Dark Lord regain his body and start spreading his terror anew."

"Of course." The old warlock replied. "I'll be on my way then." And with that he walked up to the fireplace and flooed away.

 **~/ *** \~**

As Harry took a seat at the Slytherin table the next morning, he couldn't shake off the feeling that something bad has happened at Hogwarts. Perhaps, the reason was that the entire with the exception of Professor Mire, who was nowhere to be seen, was sitting there with forced cheerfulness on their faces. Shrugging this off as a product of his imagination, he helped himself with some toasts and some scrambled eggs.

However, about the time he was half-through his breakfast, Headmaster Dumbledore rose from his golden throne-like chair and called for everyone's attention.

"Pardon me for distracting you from your meals, but I have to make an important announcement." The old warlock said, addressing the student body. Once everyone was listening to him, he continued: "Due to unforeseen and unfortunate events, Professor Mire will not be able to continue teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts." This announcement caused a wave of disappointed groans. Professor Mire wasn't particularly well liked, but the students weren't thrilled by yet another change in Professors part-way through the year. "Since we have only a few months left, it was decided that I will take over the position for the rest of this academic year."

"The curse is particularly vicious this year. I don't think we've ever lost two DADA Professors in just five months before." Harry heard someone down the Slytherin table remark.

"Then hopefully it will strike the third time." The young Mr. Malfoy said in a droning voice. "It's about time the old fool removed himself from Hogwarts and let a better wizard take the reigns."

"Malfoy!" The previous speaker hissed angrily. "Stop bringing disgrace to the House of Slytherin with your stupid remarks. As much as I don't like the Headmaster's policies on certain things, openly wishing him harm is just dragging the Noble name of Slytherin through the mire." The blonde boy was about to retort, but before a single word could leave his mouth, he winced in pain: apparently someone had kicked him under the table to preemptively shut him up.

Turning his attention away from the scene, Harry asked his best friends:

"Why do think Professor Mire left Hogwarts so suddenly?"

"Well… He's an Auror, isn't he? Perhaps, the DMLE assigned him an extended mission away from Hogwarts?" Hestia said after a moment of silence. The green-eyed wizard nodded: this sounded like a reasonable explanation.

"Likely." Flora agreed. "But there is a rumor abound that he was in a fight yesternight and that's why he won't teach anymore." Harry gave her a look full of doubt.

"Seriously?" He asked. "Wouldn't there be some signs of a Magical battle if that fight indeed happened?"

"Probably." Flora replied with a shrug. "I only said that there is such a rumor."

"I know." The young Potter said. "I'm just astonished that people come up with such ridiculous ideas."

 **~/ *** \~**

Later that same day, once the classes were over, Harry approached his upperclassman, Miles Bletchley, with a request of great importance.

"Let me get this straight, Potter, you want me to buy these sweets from Honeydukes for you?" The older boy asked as he read the offered list obliquely. "You do remember that things aren't done for free in Slytherin, right?" The green-eyed wizard nodded.

"Of course." Harry said. "I'm giving you enough gold that what you'll be left with should be sufficient compensation for your efforts.." Miles grumbled something under his breath, but accepted the money and the list of sweets the younger boy wanted him to buy nevertheless.

"Fine. Just don't hold me responsible if your girlfriends don't like these chocolates." He said, making the young Potter blush red and start making unconvincing claims that his relationship with Flora and Hestia wasn't like that.

...Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the Slytherin common room, the Carrow twins were suffering through something very similar as they were ordering some sweets for Harry through a female prefect.

 **~/ *** \~**

The morning of February 11th was cold and sunny, and Harry was certain that it would be just another Tuesday. Then the owl post arrived along with his copy of the 'Daily Prophet'.

 _Albus Dumbledore resigns from Wizengamot and ICW_

The newspaper's headline screamed. Putting his breakfast aside, the young Potter skimmed through the article. According to it, yesterday the Hogwarts Headmaster had unexpectedly announced his resignation from his positions of the Chief Warlock of Wizengamot and the Supreme Mugwump of ICW during the scheduled session of the Magical Britain's parliament.

Dumbledore's stated reason for this resignation was his advanced age making it really hard for him to balance three full-time jobs and his desire to concentrate on one that he liked the most. The reporter of the 'Daily Prophet', however, speculated that the recent events at Hogwarts could have been a major influence for this decision.

The article then went on how Elphias Doge became the acting Chief Warlock while the election of Britain's ICW representative would take place during the emergency Wizengamot session next week. Not being particularly interested in who the potential candidates for that position were, Harry set the newspaper aside and was about to resume his breakfast when Dumbledore called for the student's attention. Once he had it, he made his announcement:

"As some of you are already aware thanks to the 'Daily Prophet', I've resigned from positions I held in Wizengamot and ICW in favor of devoting all of my time to guiding the new generation of wizards and witches as a teacher and the Headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry." The aged warlock said. Waiting for murmurs to die down a little, he continued: "And as a teacher I'm proud to announce that starting with the next year Hogwarts will be offering a new elective course, the Basics of Alchemy. This course will be open for those students, who have mastered OWL-level Transfiguration, Potions, Ancient Runes and Arithmancy."

This announcements was met with an excited chatter, and it wasn't hard to see what the students, especially those from Ravenclaw, were excited about: Alchemy was an almost-legendary branch of Magic that only a handful of wizards and witches throughout the world were proficient at. Being given a chance to study even the very basics of this art would be a great honor. ...Dumbledore, however, wasn't done with his announcement just yet.

"In addition to that, I will be reading a series of public lectures on the history of Magical Arts, nature of various Magical phenomena, and other topics of interest. These lectures will be held twice a week and open for everyone to attend." He said.

"Don't know about you, but I'm definitely looking forward to these lectures." Harry whispered to his friends. And, indeed, while he might not agree with Dumbledore on many things, he'd never deny that the old man was both a very good teacher and incredibly knowledgeable about Magic. "It would be interesting to learn more about Magic and why things are the way they are." The Carrow twins nodded.

"Yeah, those ought to be quite interesting. I just hope those lectures wouldn't be too hard for us, then third years, to understand." Flora said in response.

"I don't think it's something we should really worry about." Harry said "Headmaster Dumbledore did say that those lectures will be public and open for everyone. He'll probably write them in such a way that even a muggle-born first year will be able to understand what he's talking about."

"I hope you're right, Harry." Hestia said with a nod.

 **~/ *** \~**

Friday morning found Harry sitting in his usual armchair in the Slytherin common room, waiting impatiently for Flora and Hestia to join him there. Right next to him, carefully hidden by a pillow, were two boxes of chocolate candies that he intended to gift to the twins for the Valentine's.

And as various scenarios of what might happen played out in his head, the young Potter got lost in his thoughts and completely missed the girls emerging from the dormitories and walking up to him. Only when they called for his attention did he finally return back to the present.

"Is everything alright, Harry?" Looking up, he saw Flora and Hestia standing side by side in front of him. And even as distracted as he was, he couldn't miss the twins looking rather nervous themselves as they tried to keep something hidden behind their backs.

"Yeah, sorry, I got lost in my thoughts." He told them. This was followed by a period of uneasy silence, during which the girls became even more nervous, especially Hestia who was now shifting from one foot to the other diffidently. After a few seconds, Flora bumped her sister's shoulder and whispered something that Harry couldn't quite hear. Hestia nodded in response, encouraged by her twin's words.

"H-Here, Harry. Happy Valentine's." The twins said bashfully as they gave him a heart-shaped box of chocolates, deep blushes blossoming on their faces.

"T-Thank you." The young Potter said, his voice just as bashful, as he accepted their gift. Placing the box on his lap carefully, he presented the girls with the boxes of candies he had bought for them. "And t-these are for you." Taking the chocolates from his hands, Flora and Hestia immediately noticed that he remembered that they had slightly different tastes and got them the sweets they liked the best.

"Our favorites... Thank you so much, Harry." They said. Then, blushing a deeper shade of red, they leaned forward and kissed the green-eyed wizard on his cheeks, making his face turn as red as Weasleys' hair. And he just sat there, shocked motionless.

"C'mon, Harry, won't you join us for some breakfast?" Flora, now back to her usual self, teased him, breaking the young Potter out of his stupor..

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	23. The End of the Second Year

And here's the twenty third chapter of "A Year Too Soon"! Enjoy!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **Clavyus** , **DarkRavie** , **orion0905** , **mwinter1** , **jamnaz79** , **Marksbay** , **Yana5** , **skigirl51** , **smokeapound** , **Lazruth** , **mizzrazz72** , **The Shadows Mistress** , **Jostanos** , **NabikiB** , **akasanta** , **Shalifi** , **Apostrophe Catastrophe** , **richard333** , **Tsukikageshi** , **Guest** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **Regale Rhythm** , his direct political power at any rate. Remember, he was a Transfiguration Professor or the Headmaster for good two thirds of Wizengamot. Many people will still listen to what he has to say even if he is no longer the Chief Warlock.  
 **Wyrtha** , I'll probably take some flak for this, but I'm planning to have Lockhart as the DADA Professor for a short while. don't worry though, I'll have him removed before he can do too much damage. I promise. :P  
 **magitech** , **mab70** , yes, in the next year the Department of Magical Education will step in and try to finally deal with the DADA situation (and replace a certain blond fool with someone actually competent along the way).  
 **BBryant** , I'll think about it. There won't be anything for this chapter, though.  
 **TheGreatBubbaJ** , ^^  
 **Vampireking40** , with how things are going, there might not even be any toad-witch teaching DADA, in 1995-96 or otherwise.  
 **et-reader97** , the diary would still end up possessing Ginny, but that most certainly wouldn't be Lucius's intentions nor will he even be directly responsible for it this time around.

 *** AN**: As always, great thanks to my friend **Skelekitty** for his help in polishing this chapter.

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
" _parseltongue_ "  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text  
_ **spells**

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon  
Chapter XXIII: The End of the Second Year**

The days following Valentine's saw Harry grow even closer to Flora and Hestia with the girls now spending even more time in his company, often choosing to sit right by his side, sometimes even leaning against him comfortably. This, of course, wasn't missed by the school and while there was a small number of people who were just genuinely happy for them, quite a few of the boys were jealous of him for 'scoring' with the cute twins. Those were annoying, especially the arrogant rich heirs who got it into their heads that he had simply bought his friends' affection. The young Potter actually nearly sent one of nearly sent one of those bastard to the Hospital wing when had to fend him off with a wand in his hand…

Thankfully, it didn't take long for the people to get bored with speculating about his love life and move on to fresher gossip brought by Hogwarts' rumor mill. Thus, by the first week of March, Harry's life - as well as those of Flora and Hestia - were more or less back to the comfortable monotony of day-to-day school. Then, one fine April day, this monotony was broken by a bunch of booklets advertising Hogwarts' various elective courses appearing all over the Slytherin common room.

"Say, Harry, which courses you will be signing up for?" Flora asked her friend.

"Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and, probably, Care for Magical Creatures." The green-eyed wizard replied as he lazily flipped through the Runes' booklet. Having followed Lady Greengrass' advice, he had researched the available electives months ago.

"You are hoping to get into the Alchemy class once you pass your OWLs, don't you?" Flora asked half-seriously. Harry nodded in response.

"I would be lying if I said that I don't want to learn that art. But even if I fail to qualify for that class, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes are two of the most useful electives we have here." There was a short pause, before he continued, now with a question of his own: "And which electives are you leaning towards?" Hestia was the one to answer him:

"We are signing up for Ancient Runes and Care for Magical Creatures. We also thought about joining the Muggle Studies class." This made Harry raise an eyebrow.

"Why is that? And, also, you aren't going to try Arithmancy?" He asked the twins.

"I… We don't think we're smart enough to really do well there." Flora replied. "As for the Muggle Studies… Well… You aren't going to complete leave the non-Magical world, are you, Harry? We thought that it might be a good idea to be a little more aware of what it is like to live there."

"That is certainly wise." The Potter heir agreed. "And, you're right, I don't plan on leaving the non-Magical world completely, though, I'm not going to spend much of my time there in the foreseeable future. It would nice to have a safe place to stay in the Magical world first." Pausing for a moment, he continued: "And, I don't think I can actually recommend the class. From what I've heard, it mostly teaches information that is quite outdated and might not actually be useful anymore. I've even heard some people saying that this class is close to forty years behind reality and, given how rapidly the non-Magical world is changing nowadays, that is indeed long enough to make most things taught there horribly outdated."

"I see…" Hestia said with a pout. Then she let out a teasing smile. "Perhaps, Harry, you'd like to teach us about the non-Magical ways of life personally then?" It took the green-eyed wizard a few moment to fight down the blush that threatened to paint his face bright red.

"That might actually be not that bad of an idea." He said finally. "And, from what I hear, it is possible to sit the OWLs for the non-core subjects you sign up for." While rare, there indeed were cases of people, who passed OWLs despite having never officially studied the subject while at Hogwarts.

"You can actually do that?" Flora asked.

"Yeah." Harry confirmed. "Though you'll need to send a letter to the Department of Magical Education so that they add you to list of the examinees. In theory, you could probably even sit exams a year or even two earlier this way, but I haven't heard of anyone who ever did that."

"Interesting..." Hestia said thoughtfully.

"Back to the original question." The green-eyed wizard continued. "You are signing up for Ancient Runes and Care for Magical Creatures then?" The twins nodded.

"Yes." Hestia confirmed. "I'm a bit interested in Divination too, but I don't believe I have the Gift. Plus, I've heard that the Professor is a fraud who is drunk on sherry half of the time. I don't think I want to attend a class taught by someone like that."

"I haven't heard much positive about Professor Trelawney either." Harry said. "Why is someone like her even allowed to teach at Hogwarts?" He received only shrugs in response. "Anyway, are you really sure you don't want to sign up for Arithmancy?" He asked then, his voice making it clear that he didn't want to be separated from his friends for that class. The Carrow twins shook their heads.

"No, sorry, Harry. You'll be there on their own." Flora said. Then, seeing the expression on his face, she added playfully: "C'mon, Harry, you're a big boy. You can manage one class a day without our radiant presence."

* * *

"Professor?" The green-eyed wizard called as he knocked on the door of Professor Snape's office. And the reason for this visit was simple: in Slytherin the students submitted the list of the electives they wanted to sign up for to their Head of the House personally.

"Come in." The man hailed after a second or two. "Mr. Potter? You're here to submit the list of the electives you wish to attend from the next year onwards?" He asked, once Harry stepped into his office.

"Yes, Sir." The Potter heir replied with a nod as he handed a piece of parchment to his Head of the House, who studied it intently.

"Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and Care for the Magical Creatures. These are quite respectable choices to make." The Potions Master said after several long seconds of silence. "I hope you're ready for the amount of work these classes require of you, Mr. Potter. I will be greatly displeased if you can't keep your grades at Exceeding Expectations or higher."

"I will do my best not to disappoint you, Sir." Harry replied.

"See that you do." Professor Snape said. "Now, if there is nothing else, dismissed." Nodding, the green-eyed youth quickly vacated the man's office.

 **~/ *** \~**

Early in May, just a few days before the end of the year exams began, Harry found himself summoned by the Headmaster. Given what time of the year if was, the young wizard was pretty sure that this meeting will be nothing but Dumbledore trying to convince him to spend his whole summer cooped at #4, Privet Drive. For his own good, of course.

"Come in, H-... Mr. Potter." The aged warlock greeted him as he entered the man's office. "Please have a sit. I need to discuss something very important with you." Once Harry seated himself, the Headmaster continued: "As you might remember, a year ago I insisted that you spend a couple of weeks of your summer at your Aunt's house."

"You said, it will help protect me from the followers of the Dark Lord who managed to avoid being imprisoned." The green-eyed wizard said, recalling his conversation with Dumbledore from a year ago.

"Indeed." The man confirmed. "And I must do that again this year. In fact, it'd be better if you limit your time outside of the wards around your Aunt's house as much as possible." Harry definitely wasn't happy to hear this and Dumbledore had to be completely blind not to see it. "I know that you'd rather spend your holidays elsewhere but, in the light of what has happened earlier this year, your safety is much more important." Receiving a flat look from the younger wizard, he let out a small sigh. "Please, don't go spreading around what I'm about to tell you, Mr. Potter." Receiving a tentative nod from Harry, he proceeded to explain his reasoning. "Earlier this year, I've thwarted Voldemort's attempt to regain a physical body. Unfortunately, my attempt to contain him afterwards failed and he managed to escape."

Having known that there was Dark Lord's horcrux in his forehead, the green-eyed wizard already suspected that Voldemort wasn't as dead as the public was led to believe. Still, he wasn't happy to hear that the bastard was active and seeking a way to give himself a new body.

"Until he's located, captured and dealt with, Voldemort is extremely dangerous even without a physical body of his own. It is imperative that you spend as much time as possible within the safety of the blood wards, Harry." Dumbledore said. His words were followed by a few long seconds of silence.

"I appreciate your telling me this, Sir. I will be sure to spend as much time under the protection of the wards as possible." Harry replied even if he had no desire to spend more time at Number Four, Privet Drive than was absolutely necessary to keep a certain old man off his back.

"Thank you, Harry. I'm glad that you can see reason." The old warlock said.

* * *

"What did the Headmaster want with you?" Flora asked Harry the moment he returned to the Slytherin common room.

"The same thing he wanted a year ago." The green-eyed wizard replied with a sigh as he collapsed into the nearest armchair. "He told me that I should spend the summer holidays cooped in the house of my non-Magical Aunt and Uncle."

"And he still claims that it is the safest place for you to be when away from here?" Flora asked next. Harry gave her a nod of confirmation. There was a bit of a pause, before the girl continued: "You've said that there supposedly are some really awesome wards around that house, but are they really needed? You've spend most of the previous summer staying at the Leaky Cauldron and were just fine."

"True." The young Potter replied. "I don't think there is any reason for me to spend much time there either." Even with Voldemort on the loose in a spirit-like form, Harry really doubted that he truly needed the protections the Blood Wards supposedly offered. "But, I guess, I should stay there for a few days: we might not be on the best terms with each other, but those people _are_ my family. Plus, while the Headmaster might not be the Chief Warlock anymore, he still wields a lot of political power and he can make my life quite difficult if he wants to. Best not to give him a reason to do so with my 'teenage rebelliousness'"

"Poor, poor you." Flora teased as she playfully patted his shoulder.

 **~/ *** \~**

The end of the academic year exams took place over the following week and, much to his surprise, Harry found them to be not all that hard. Sure, passing them with flying colors still required quite a bit of hard work on his part, but these exams felt like they actually were a bit easier than those from the previous year. Perhaps, he was simply getting used to the Magical world and how things in it were working?

Either way, he managed to score Os in all subjects but History of Magic, a result which earned him the top spot in academics among the second-year Slytherins and made it into the top five in his year. Professor Snape was very pleased with this and even awarded him with a few points for 'great academic achievements', though Harry suspected it was just an excuse the Potions Master used to give Slytherin an even higher lead in the competition for the House Cup award.

Harry wasn't the only one to do really well on those exams either. Flora and Hestia, in spite of their claims to not being all that smart, managed to get into the top third of the year-wide ranking. And as their friend, he couldn't be happier for them.

* * *

At long last, the final day of school arrived, bringing the end of the year feast along with it. And to celebrate Slytherin's winning of the House Cup - seventh in a row - the Great Hall was decked out in green and silver colors with a huge banner adorned by a mighty serpent covering the wall behind the Professors' table.

And while the feast hasn't started yet, the Slytherins were already celebrating their all-but-assured victory, much to the discontent of the people from the other three houses. But even those students couldn't deny the summer mood in the air and were chatting excitedly, discussing their plans for the holidays or just being happy that the classes were over.

This chatter died down, however, once the Headmaster rose out of his throne-like golden chair.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "It certainly was a challenging and trying year but, hopefully, your heads are all a little fuller than they were… And you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts so that they can be filled with knowledge anew." Here, he made a small pause, before continuing. "Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the House Points stand thus: on the fourth place we have Hufflepuff with three hundred and ninety two points."

The young Badgers exploded with cheering, making it clear to the world that they will be working extra hard to try and win the House Cup the next year. Many a student around the Great Hall, Harry included, clapped politely to cheer them up… Having waited for the students to quiet down a little, Dumbledore continued:

"Ravenclaw has four hundred and sixteen points and is in the third place." Once again, the Great Hall was drowned in the sounds of cheering, only centered around the table under the blue-and-bronze banner this time. "In the second place we have Gryffindor with four hundred and fifty two points." It was now the Lions' turn to chirrup. And, thanks to the Weasley twins, it was both very loud and accompanied by some colorful fireworks proclaiming Gryffindor to be the best house at Hogwarts... Once that spectacle came to an end, Dumbledore finally announced the winner of the House Cup: "And finally, in the first place with four hundred and seventy seven points we have Slytherin. Congratulations!" A moment later, a storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table as their Head of the House was given the Cup. The Headmaster waited for the cheering to quiet down, before continuing: "And now let us begin the feast to celebrate the end of this academic year!" He then clapped his hands once and the food magically appeared on the tables.

* * *

Later that evening, just before the curfew, Professor Snape called a House meeting for the students in second through sixth years.

"As you all already know, Hogwarts allows its students in the third year and above to visit the nearby village of Hogsmeade on a few special weekends throughout the year." The Potions Master began as he walked into the room with a small stack of parchments in his hands. He then distributed these parchments to the assembled students with a lazy wave of his wand. "Those who wish to visit Hogsmeade during the next academic year must return these forms, signed by their parents or other legal guardians, no later than September the second."

"Yes, Sir!" The students chorused.

"Also, I must remind you all that your right to visit Hogsmeade may be suspended or permanently revoked as a punishment for your misdeeds. Having your permission slip signed is no excuse to be anything less than exemplary wizards and witches." He added, receiving another chorus of 'Yes, Sir!' from the students in the room. Satisfied, he ended this brief meeting: "Dismissed."

 **~/ *** \~**

The next morning was bright and sunny, completely dispelling any doubts that the summer holidays were about to begin. Shortly after the breakfast the students said their goodbyes to the castle and rode the "horseless" carriages to Hogsmeade where the Hogwarts Express was waiting to take them to London.

Upon boarding the train, Harry, Flora and Hestia quickly claimed an unoccupied compartment near the middle of the train. They were soon joined by Daphne and Tracey there. Blaise, meanwhile, merely asked to reserve a seat for him before disappearing into the next car to hang out with his other friends. As the five teens got comfortable, a conversation inevitably sparked among them. And, this conversation soon turned towards their plans for the holidays yet again.

"Say, Harry, do you still plan to stay at the 'Leaky Cauldron' for most of the summer?" Flora asked. "It'd be nice if we could shop for the next school year together, like we did the previous summer. Perhaps, we could meet on some other days as well." Hestia nodded in agreement. As did Daphne and Tracey, who were sitting across the compartment from them.

"Yeah." The green-eyed wizard said. "I'll be moving in there a couple of weeks into the holidays." After a brief pause he added: "I do have some business with Gringotts that I have to attend, but it should all be concluded long before our shopping lists for the upcoming academic year arrive."

"That's great!" Hestia said. "You should owl us when you're done with your business."

"Of course." Harry promised, while making a mental note that he really should look into buying a personal post owl. Not this year, though, as hiring Goblin curse-breakers to remove the horcrux stuck in his forehead left him with barely enough gold in his trust vault to buy textbooks and other stuff he might need for the next school year.

"Please don't let this business of yours that too much time." Tracey said. "It'd be so much more fun if we all go places together." Harry gave her a non-committal smile. "Also, where do you think we should go? I heard, there were some really interesting shops near the far end of the Diagon Alley." She paused. "Oh, I have an idea! Perhaps, we could visit the Greengrass estate and play in the fields surrounding it?"

"I can talk to my parents about this, but I won't make any promises, Tracey." Daphne told her.

"Of course, of course." The said girl replied, waving her hands defensively. "Anyway..." And with that the great brainstorming for nice and interesting places to hang out together began.

* * *

As the Hogwarts Express slowly pulled to the platform 9¾, Daphne and Tracey got off their seats and began pulling their trunks off the luggage rack. Harry, being the gentleman that he was, immediately jumped to help them. He then pulled his own trunk and those of Flora and Hestia as well. He then began preparing to disembark the train, but the twins quickly put a stop to that. And when he gave them a questioning look, they simply nodded for him to sit back between them. With a shrug he did just that. Once Daphne and Tracey left the compartment, Hestia, who was sitting by the door, pulled it close.

"Before we part our ways today, there was… something we wanted to do… Without anyone watching us…" Flora 'explained' in an unusually shy voice as her cheeks tinged pink. Her sister was mirroring her blush as well. And before Harry could ask what was going on, the girls exchanged a quick glance and pushed him against the backrest of his seat, laying gentle kisses on his cheeks.

After a few long moments they pulled away, leaving the green-eyed youth dazed a bit. It took him quite a bit of time to come back to reality.

"Shh!.." Flora shook her head, silencing him before he could say anything. The compartment fell into an awkward silence, which, thankfully, didn't last very long - the sound of crowd on the platform reminded the trio that they too needed to get off the train. "Let's get going before Grandmother starts wondering where we got lost." She then turned her attention to the Potter scion. "Come, Harry." She said, asking him to follow her with a nod.

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


	24. Dealings

And here's the twenty fourth chapter of "A Year Too Soon"! Enjoy!

 *** Review Response**:  
 **Clavyus** , Harry is around thirteen physically at this point, and so, like any just-entered-teens boy, he's developing an interest in girls.  
 **NobleHumanRocks** , **Mydisorder20** , **Charles Ceaser** , **zakripng** , **magitech** , **mizzrazz72** , **geekymom** , **raigalcc, DarkRavie** , **elvander72** , , **et-reader97** , **Lord Mortensen** , **ObsessedWithHPFanFic** , **lonewolf 83** , **jamnaz79** , **Ranmaleopard** , **JPElles** , **Zicou** , **PrometheusDark** , **goblin81** , **Pygmy Hippo** , **SilverExcel115** , **Nouriel** , **bearcas79** , **Driabwb** , **Guest** , **hellfire45** , **themadmartian** , **DarkFusi0n** , **Smokeing** , thank you for your reviews, folks!  
 **TheGreatBubbaJ** , the removal with be handled in a rather boring way, actually. We've enough "Harry becomes a super-powered wizards thanks to the memories from the horcrux" stories as it is already. ;)  
 **orion0905** , perhaps - Harry did that without consulting with him or even informing him about his plans - but learning that a horcrux can be moved to a new 'host' will also allow him to preserve a certain priceless relic currently hidden deep within Hogwarts.  
 **nkh1** , heh. As for the snake... while the story is rated M, I'll try to keep the plot going without resorting to smut. Seriously, though, the basilisk will indeed make its appearance, but with a bit smarter Slytherin Harry and Dumbledore now actually accountable for what is going on in the castle the things won't go the same way they did in the book.  
 **Jostanos** , no, but I'm sure that it isn't a side-effect Harry would mind.  
 **bigrobinho** , yeah, it is quite annoying that a lot Slytherin!Harry stories portray him either as an evil overlord in training, a stoic or a jerkass.  
 **Peregrine 2K** , hopefully, I will be able to write something that isn't an utter disappointment.  
 **Yami no fukushi no tenshi** , heheh.

 *** AN**: As always, great thanks to my friend **Alayne Amaya** for his help in polishing this chapter.

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer_** _: I_ _DO NOT_ _own "_ ** _Harry Potter_** _" franchise._ No profit is being made. Same goes for any books, video games, anime or manga I may or may not use for ideas.

"speaking"  
" _parseltongue_ "  
' _thinking_ '  
 _written text  
_ **spells**

* * *

 **A Year Too Soon  
Chapter XXIV: Dealings**

Lucius Malfoy was sitting in his study, working his way through the day's worth of business correspondence and other documents that required his attention. To an outside observer he would appear as the very image of a powerful and confident pure-blood lord, but on the inside the things were a bit different. Just as his son had returned from his first year at Hogwarts, some very disturbing rumors have reached him.

Apparently, the Dark Lord had somehow cheated death on the night he attacked the Potters. And now he was active again, seeking a way restore himself to his former glory. And while some would be thrilled to have their Master return, Lucius wasn't one of them. Not anymore, at least. While he was still a firm believer in pure-blood superiority, the years of peace left him rather reluctant to put his Death Eater's mask back on. He was a powerful and well-connected Lord of the Noble House of Malfoy and not some disposable grunt, expected to die for the cause whenever it pleased his Master. He also hasn't forgotten the Dark Lord's penchant to punish his followers with the Cruciatus curse, no matter how small their failures might be. Or even curse them for no greater reason than having a bad day…

In other words, Lucius Malfoy wasn't especially eager to see the man return.

Thankfully for him, it looked like Dumbledore had managed to foil the Dark Lord's attempt to regain his body this time. Alas, according to that rumor, this was but a mere setback for the man and he would rise from the ashes sooner or later. And Lucius would rather it be later. Or never.

Of course, he couldn't aid those who sought to end the Dark Lord directly, but there had to be something he could do to secretly aid the final downfall of his former Master. And after thinking hard about this for awhile, he finally had an idea worth pursuing.

A couple of years before his downfall, the Dark Lord entrusted him with safeguarding an item of great importance. At a glance, this item looked like a normal leather-bound diary, but some Dark and powerful Magics dwelled deep within it. Back then Lucius didn't pay it much mind, but now he was quite sure that this diary had something to do with the Dark Lord's miraculous ability to cheat death.

Having made his mind up, Lucius made his way to the manor's dungeon and retrieved the diary from a secret safe he had installed there. The object still radiated that invisible aura of Dark power. Drawing his wand, the Lord Malfoy cast a few diagnostic spells in an attempt to determine the true nature of this artifact. The diary, however, was in no hurry to reveal its secrets.

This only further assured Lucius that his guess was spot on and this diary was responsible for the Dark Lord's 'survival' of that Halloween night. Now, the question was how to proceed from there…

Of course, he could hire goblin Curse-Breakers to deal with it, but something was telling him that the diary in front of him wasn't the only such artifact the Dark Lord had created. And the chances were, even a single such 'anchor' was enough to prevent the man from dying for real. He needed to pass this discovery to Dumbledore and others on the Light side without exposing himself as its source.

 **~/ *** \~**

Ever since the 'Daily Prophet' had spread the story of a curse placed on the position of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts all those years ago it had become increasingly difficult for Dumbledore to find a skilled teacher willing to take the position. And it was even worse than usual this time as Hogwarts managed to lose not one but two DADA Professors in a single academic year.

In fact, there was only one applicant for the job: Gilderoy Lockhart. According to the books the man himself had published, he had performed many incredible deeds of Magic - and a cursory check showed that at least _someone_ did those things - the aged headmaster wasn't sure that he wanted the famous wizard on his school's staff. For one, Lockhart was quite narcissistic and giving someone like that power over children might not be the best of ideas.

And then there existed a number of inconsistencies when one tried to create a complete timeline of all of the man's adventures. Some things just didn't add up right. Dumbledore could chalk this up to a use of creative license in order to make stories more interesting for the readers, but it still made him wonder about the truthfulness of Lockhart's claims to have performed all those heroics he wrote about.

Which is why Albus was going to interview the man.

"Good afternoon." He greeted Madam Rosmerta as he stepped into 'The Three Broomsticks' pub. "I have Room Four booked for today." The witch nodded.

"Of course, Albus." She said as she gave him a key to the room. "Any refreshments?"

"A butterbeer for me for now." The Hogwarts' Headmaster replied. "I'll call you if I need something else." Madam Rosmerta nodded again and offered him a cool bottle of fresh butterbeer and a glass. Accepting them, Dumbledore headed to Room Four to wait for Lockhart..

* * *

The man arrived to the room some ten minutes later, dressed in eye-catching lilac robes. He was doing his best to project an aura of confidence in his knowledge and abilities, but Dumbledore could see nervousness behind this facade.

"Good afternoon, Gilderoy." The Hogwarts Headmaster greeted. "If you want some refreshments, don't be shy to order some from Ro-... Madam Rosmerta."

"Good afternoon, Professor." The blonde greeted back as he shook Albus's hand. "Maybe later?"

"Then, let us begin." Once the two of them got seated, Dumbledore said. "After I received your application for the post of the DADA Professor, I read through your books and I must say, Gilderoy, I'm very happy to see that you've grown into an outstanding wizard."

"T-Thank you, Professor!" Lockhart replied.

"Now." The elderly warlock continued. "I understand that the books you publish are adventure novels and I shouldn't expect an accurate description of Magic used from them, however in 'Wanderings with Werewolves' you claim to have cured lycanthropy. As far as I'm aware, it's incurable. Would you please explain what really happened there?" Gilderoy forcefully suppressed desire to swallow nervously. This was a question he'd rather not be asked. Still, he was no fool to rush into situations blindly - not anymore, at any rate - so he had prepared.

"Yes, lycanthropy can't be cured. What I did to the Wagga-Wagga Werewolf was weakening the _Wolf_ and sealing it deep inside the _Man_. The bastard was left unable to transform or infect anyone anymore."

"That is still impressive." Dumbledore said. "And, it would be great if you could repeat your success with other werewolves who wish to live ordinary witches and wizards."

"I'm afraid, that is impossible." Lockhart replied. "The spell I used in my final fight with that monster was merely a trigger to activate a ritual - one that wasn't created by me and wasn't taught to me fully." He really didn't want to admit that he wasn't as heroic as he presented himself in the books, but being exposed as a complete fraud and losing what fame and money he already had was an even worse Fate… "Furthermore, in order for this ritual to work, the werewolf must have a recognized territory as his 'hunting grounds'. Severing the connection between the _Wolf_ and his territory is what weakens it enough to be sealed." Thank Merlin he had gotten those details from the wizard who actually fought the Wagga-Wagga Werewolf before wiping his memories. "And, I was told that having a _Wolf_ sealed so tightly and with no way to stretch its legs on the nights of full moon will quickly drive the man incurably and murderously insane."

"I see… This is really unfortunate." Dumbledore said after several long seconds of silence. "And here I was hoping that you would be able to free a certain young man I know from the curse of lycanthropy." This was followed by another, more awkward, pause. "Very Well." The Hogwarts Headmaster said finally. "And can you please tell me what Magic did you use when you banished The Bandon Banshee." Lockhart let out a small sigh before retelling the story he got from the witch (with a hairy chin) that actually did that, substituting himself in where appropriate, of course. Once again, he was thankful for his foresight to take a very detailed account of the event, before wiping the memories of the witch.

"...And so I made the banshee flee in fear for its life." Gilderoy finished the tale. "I certainly didn't do that with my smile, but it certainly helped that I was presenting a front of unwavering bravery." He said, while giving Dumbledore his patented smile.

"That was very educational." Albus commented. "You clearly have things you can teach to the younger generation of wizards and witches. But I also would like to see if your actual skill with a wand matches what your presentation of it in your books." The blond man swallowed nervously.

"Surely you don't mean I do the demonstration right here? Madam Rosmerta wouldn't approve of us scaring away her customers and trashing the room." He tried to wiggle his way out.

"You're certainly right." Dumbledore said. "Let us go to where you can safely demonstrate your skills then. Surely, the field next to the Shrieking Shack will suffice." Lockhart let out a small resigned sigh, but seeing as his only valid argument for not having an exhibition match against the former Chief Warlock was shot down, he was left with no recourse but to accept the 'challenge'.

Thankfully for him, he did have an ace up his sleeve and with the demonstration taking place outdoors, he now had time to actually use it. Back when he had just graduated from Hogwarts, he tried to modify the Glamour Charm to make him look perfect regardless of situation. It didn't quite work like wanted, but the resulting spell turned out to be an illusion that could conceal small movements he might make. In practice, it gave him an extra element of surprise by letting him pull his wand out of holster without the victim noticing anything. It was actually what allowed him to subdue and memory-wipe a few of the wizards and witches whose deeds he stole.

And he secretly applied this Charm to himself while Dumbledore wasn't paying attention to him as the two of them made their way to the Shrieking Shack.

"Do you find this place better suited for the demonstration of your skill with a wand, Gilderoy?" The Hogwarts Headmaster asked as he reached the field behind an abandoned shack on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. The blond wizard nodded while quietly pulling his wand out of its holster, the illusion he had cast upon himself preventing the other man from seeing the subtle movements he was making. "Very well, let us begin then."

" **Confundo!** " Lockhart threw a quick Confundus Charm, hoping to disorient Dumbledore with it. The old warlock, however, was way more spry than his appearance suggested and had no problem dodging this attack. And he returned spellfire with a moderately-sized fireball. Gilderoy was still scared quite a bit by it as he knew his best Shielding Charm will not be able to withstand something like this. Dodging was his only option, but lack of actual combat experience didn't let him do it as gracefully as Dumbledore. Hell, he nearly fell on the dirt when he tripped over his feet. Quickly recovering, he sent another Confundus Charm, followed by an overpowered Charm to straighten one's clothes. Once again, the Hogwarts Headmaster simply dodged his attack.

" **Expelliarmus! Glacius!** " Albus returned fire. Gilderoy tried to shield himself and while that let him keep his wand, the disarming Charm shattered his shield with enough force to send him flying backwards. Which also prevented him from being frozen on spot as the Glacius Charm sailed harmlessly above his head. Hastily getting back on his feet, Lockhart returned fire with a Freezing Charm, followed by a Mobilicorpus spell and yet another Confundus Charm. None of which managed to hit their intended target. "Is there a reason you're using only OWL-level spells, Gilderoy?" Dumbledore asked while sending a bolt of lightning that the blond man barely avoided.

"Uhm… I'm supposed to teach inexperienced youth. I should show off my skills with what I'm planning to actually teach them." Lockhart replied while hoping that his voice doesn't somehow betray the fact that these OWL-level spells also were the best combat spells he could use.

"Indeed." The Hogwarts Headmaster agreed. "It would be rather pointless for me to evaluate the skills you will never get to teach to your students, Gilderoy." The blond wizard nodded vigorously. "And, while you seem to be a bit rusty when it comes to fighting other wizards, you do have a lot of experience in dealing with dangerous Magical Creatures and you did display a level of creativity that is most definitely needed when one is facing against the forces of Dark. I believe, this proves that you have what it takes to be a DADA teacher." Dumbledore said, causing Lockhart to let out a sigh of relief, thankfully concealed by his 'Glamour' Charm. "Refresh yourself if you need, Gilderoy, and meet me in my office in hour. I will have your contract ready by then."

"Thank you, Professor." The blond man replied with a bright smile on his face. "It's a great honor to be able to share my skill and my knowledge with the young wizards and witches of Great Britain."

 **~/ *** \~**

"You have requested my presence, Lord Malfoy?" Goyle Sr. asked once he shook Lucius's hand.

"Yes." The blond aristocrat replied as he led the other man to the privateness of his study. "There is something I want you to do for me."

"What is it?" Goyle Sr. asked with some measure of curiosity: it wasn't often that Lucius made such requests of him. And, more often than not, it meant that Lucius needed him to something illegal. "Whom do I need to beat this time around?" He was a bit surprised when Lord Malfoy shook his head.

"No, no, nothing like." The blond man said. "Today, I merely need you to help me get rid of one Dark artefact I had come in possession of some time ago. Unfortunately, I can't do so myself without attracting undue attention to myself, no this soon after Weasley had the Ministry people inspect my manor." He said while handing over a small silk back to Goyle Sr.

"I'm not sure I'm the best person for this job." The burly man said. "I can try burning it or something, but if you want this artefact of yours destroyed, you better hire yourself some proper curse-breaker."

"I don't want it destroyed. Not by you or I, at least." Lucius replied. "What I want you to do is to secretly deliver this object to the Ministry for Magic. It would be the best if you can find a way to get the Auror Office to deal with it, but the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts would do as well. You just have to ensure that it can't be traced back to us."

"That I can do." Goyle Sr. replied.

"Thank you. The Noble House of Malfoy will be in your debt for this." Lucius replied.

* * *

Evening saw Goyle Sr. sitting in the study of his own home, trying to come with a good way to complete the mission given to him by the Lord Malfoy. Unfortunately, no bright ideas came to him. And, well, stealthy missions like the one Lucius requested him to perform weren't one of his strengths. He was more of a charge straight ahead wands blazing type of a guy.

Taking a swig from a glass of firewhiskey, the wizard went back to thinking. Alas, even alcohol wasn't giving him much inspiration. He just couldn't see any way to sneak the cursed diary into the DMLE without getting caught. Damn Lord Malfoy and his impossible tasks!

Suddenly, an idea occurred to him. What if he got someone else to hand the diary over to the Ministry for him? But who would be his courier? He certainly didn't want to risk any of his men for something like this. Perhaps, he could get some mudblood - with all memories incriminating him Obliviated, of course - to deliver it to the DLME for him? Yeah, that sounded like a plan. A few moments later an even better idea popped into his head:

He could get that Dumbledore's asskisser Weasley to do that. Of course, as the head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, Weasley would be regularly screened for memory-altering and compulsion Magic, so there was no Charming him into an unwitting delivery boy… But there was no actual need for that either. Weasley had like five kids from his brood still attending Hogwarts, so all that Goyle Sr. needed to do was secretly slip the diary into his kids' things while they are shopping for Hogwarts. Even better, since Weasley were so poor, they'd be buying a lot of things from the second-hand shops in Knockturn Alley. And that particular street wasn't known for being frequented by kind and polite crowds. No one would bat an eyelash if he bumped into them hard enough to spill their things all over the ground. And getting the diary mixed with those would be painfully easy.

Of course, there was a small risk that whichever little blood-traitor that finds the diary among their things will keep it instead of handing it over to their father, but, seriously, any Magical kid old enough to attend Hogwarts knew not to trust strange books. Especially ones producing as strong aura of Darkness as this cursed diary. No, even a Weasley kid wouldn't be stupid enough to keep this diary for themselves.

His plan finally made up, Goyle Sr. walked up to the fireplace in the corner of his study. He had a few orders to give to his men.

 **~/ *** \~**

Harry walked into Gringotts some twenty minutes before the noon on the last Monday of June. And even though it was a prime time for business, he didn't have to stand in line for long before it was his turn to talk to a teller. Well, he didn't anything more than a greeting to the goblin and just handed him an official letter the Gringotts sent him a couple of days ago. He quickly read through this letter, before summoning one of the many "errand boy" goblins that hung around the hall.

" _ **Escort Mr. Potter to Ritual Chamber Five, Rustknife.**_ " The teller commanded in Gobbledegook while writing something in a registry book he had on his counter. The younger goblin gave a quick but polite nod before turning his attention to Harry.

"Please follow me, Mr. Potter." He said. "Master Steelhorn and his team are waiting for you." Once the green-eyed wizard gave him a nod, the errand-goblin guided Harry out of Gringotts' atrium. A not-so-quick walk through a virtual labyrinth of corridors and stairs later, they arrived to the hall of ritual chambers. Unlike the previous time he was there, however, Harry wasn't led to one of the smaller rooms. Ritual Chamber Five was a huge - though still barren - room, lit by those same everlasting Magical torches that burned with cold blue flames.

The floor of this chamber was covered by a huge and incredibly-complex runic array, seeing which immediately made it clear why the horcrux-removal ritual was so expensive and had to be booked many days in advance. Preparing something like this would take a lot of time even with multiple people - or, in this case, goblins - working on it.

And, speaking of the goblins who had drawn this impressive runic array. There were seven of them, all wearing identical dragonhide armors with Gringotts' emblem and having various curse-breaking tools on their persons.

"Mr. Potter, I presume?" The leader of this group asked as took a step towards the green-eyed wizard. "I'm Master Curse-Breaker Steelhorn. The horcrux-removal ritual you've requested is prepared and can be performed as soon as you are ready."

"It's a pleasure to do business with you, Master Steelhorn." Harry replied with a nod. After taking a deep breath to calm down, he added: "Let's begin the ritual."

"Very well." Steelhorn said. "Please take off any and all enchanted items you have on your person and lay down in the center of the array." Once the green-eyed youth did that, the goblin walked up to him and painted some rune in the dead center of his forehead. Then he retreated out of Heir Potter's sight and the chamber was filled with rather-ominous chanting in Gobbledegook. It made Harry's vision blur and soon he his consciousness faded away.

* * *

When Harry woke up, the ritual was already over - though, apparently no one thought that it might be a good idea to move him to somewhere nicer than cold and hard stone floor of the chamber. Or, more likely, no one cared. He also felt quite strange, like something that had been weighing on him constantly for years had suddenly vanished.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter." Master Curse-Breaker Steelhorn said as he walked into Harry's field of view. "We were successful in removing the horcrux from your head. It has been transferred to a temporary container." He said, while gesturing towards an enchanted cage containing a rat that had a particularly-murderous gleam in its beady red eyes.

"T-Thank you." The young Potter said.

"Would you like to destroy this abomination personally?" Steelhorn asked then, baring his sharp teeth in a bloodthirsty grin. Harry paused to think about it. After a few longs seconds he nodded. As he did that, one of the yet-unnamed goblin Curse-Breakers used some weird Goblin Magic to paralyze the rat while another approached Harry and offered him a sheathed dagger. "A warrior's choice, Mr. Potter." Stellhorn said approvingly. "Now take the dagger and kill the rat the horcrux has been transferred into. Be careful, though, the blade is infused with basilisk venom - an extremely potent venom that is one of the few known means to destroy a horcrux. Even the slightest of cuts will be fatal to you." Swallowing nervously, the Potter Heir took the offered weapon and walked up to the cage with the horcrux-possessed rat.

Drawing the dagger from its sheath, the green-eyed youth admired the silvery blade for a few moments, before raising above the immobilized rodent. Taking another deep breath, he stabbed the dagger into the rat. For a moment or two nothing happened. Then, without a warning, a soul-chilling scream filled the chamber as a ethereal black smoke vaguely shaped like a human head rose from the body of the now-dead creature.

"Nicely done, Mr. Potter." Steelhorn said as Harry re-sheathed the dagger and returned it to its owner. There was a short pause, before he continued: "Now, before we part our ways today, there is one thing that I would like to discuss with you in regards to the horcrux you've just destroyed."

"What is it?" The young Potter asked.

"I will agree with the assessment of Senior Curse-Breaker Grimlance that this horcrux almost definitely belonged to the Britain's most recent Dark Lord, Voldemort. However, my own research indicates that said Dark Lord didn't intend for you - or anything else for that matter - to become a horcrux on the Halloween night of nineteen eighty one. Now, normally, creation of a horcrux requires a special ritual to split one's soul into two pieces. For one's soul to spontaneously break apart… The best explanation for this that I can come up with is that the Dark Lord's soul had already been fractured multiple times at that point." Steelhorn made a short pause here, before dropping a proverbial bomb: "It is very likely that the Dark Lord Voldemort has created multiple horcruxes before his fall at Godric's Hollow."

While Harry already knew that Voldemort was still around in some form thanks to the horcrux he had had in his forehead, the knowledge that it wasn't the _only_ such abomination anchoring that monster to the world of living hit him like a truck.

"C-Can they be found and destroyed?" He asked in a shaking voice.

"Certainly, but it will be an extremely time-consuming task." Steelhorn replied. "While a proper horcrux can be detected by the Magic it releases at short ranges, any physical item can be - in theory - turned into a horcrux. And since the other horcruxes created by the Dark Lord were made intentionally, they are likely well-hidden as well." Harry definitely wasn't happy to hear that, but he could also understand that it would require a tremendous amount of effort to locate a few tiny objects hidden across the entire world. "I've brought the possibility of horcruxes being hidden within the walls of Gringotts with Director Ragnok." Steelhorn continued. "He said that the Goblin Nation can't spare the resources to inspect the contents of every single vault, but he is willing to order all artefacts deposited to vaults or retrieved from them checked."

"Please pass my thanks to him for this." Harry said after a long pause.

"Of course, Mr. Potter." The Goblin Curse-Breaker replied. "But, please, don't misunderstand. Gringotts is not doing this for you or anything other than it's own profit. It just happens so that the Dark Lords terrorizing country is bad for the Goblin Nation's business." The green-eyed wizard nodded in response. "Now then, our business here is concluded." Steelhorn continued. "Rustknife will escort you back to the main lobby." The said errand-goblin stepped out of the dark corner.

* * *

The reveal that Voldemort had likely created multiple horcruxes to keep his soul anchored to world of the living hit Harry pretty hard and it took him some time to get over it. Once that happened, though, the young Potter was eager to see what actual effects the removal of the horcrux from his head had on him.

Said effects were actually pretty small, aside from the incredible sense of relief he got from knowing that he was now free of that abomination. He was still the same Harry James Potter he was used to being, and even his Magic didn't feel any different than before. About the only actual change he could notice was the weakening of his ability to speak the language of serpents. He certainly didn't lose his Parseltongue, but it looked like he'll have to relearn how to use it at will. But it was alright with him.

And now that his horcrux problem was a thing of the past, it was the time for him to finally finish his summer homework and have some fun with his friends..

* * *

That's all, folks!  
 **Read** and **review**.


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